


Vampire's Tale 1, A: Steeped in Blood

by spookyawards_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M, Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-03-22
Updated: 2003-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-27 06:02:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 41,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14419188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookyawards_archivist/pseuds/spookyawards_archivist
Summary: A mysterious man manipulates the lives of Mulder and Scully. Is he their benefactor, or their enemy?





	Vampire's Tale 1, A: Steeped in Blood

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Spooky Awards](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Spooky_Awards), and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [SpookyAwards' collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/spookyawards/profile).

 

A Vampire's Tale: Steeped in Blood

## A Vampire's Tale: Steeped in Blood

### by Donnilee

**TITLE: A VAMPIRE'S TALE: STEEPED IN BLOOD** AUTHOR: Donnilee  
WEBSITE: <http://donnilee.tripod.com>  
**RATING: NC-17**  
CATEGORY: MSR - Kr/Other-Slash.  
SUMMARY: A mysterious man manipulates the lives of Mulder and Scully. Is he their benefactor, or their enemy? SPOILERS: Umm, not really. Takes place near the end of Season 7. Requiem never happened.  
DISCLAIMER: I think I can plead temporary insanity for trying some of these sex toys. ... Oh, you mean the X-Files characters? Nope. Not mine. Used shamelessly and without remorse. They belong to Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen, and Fox Broadcasting. DEDICATION: To all the readers, whose feedback keeps me wanting to continue writing.  
THANKS: To my beta reader, Fran Hartman, for stepping up when I was in a pinch. Thanks bunches! 

AUTHOR'S NOTE 1: The sex between vampires in this story is "supposed" to be fantastic and unrealistic. It is pure fantasy and not meant to be picked apart with tweezers! The "endowments" of the participants are "supposed" to lean toward the ridiculous to give a feel of separating human sex from vampiric sex. 

AUTHOR'S NOTE 2: When characters speak to each other telepathically, those words are between asterisks __, rather than quotes.

WARNING: Here there be M/M slash between Krycek and a secondary character. There is M &S horizontal mambo too. If this isn't your cup of tea, you can skip those parts. I've rated each chapter AND marked the beginning of the descriptive sex, so that you can tell which chapters contain the descriptive sex and skip over them if you wish. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxx  
**PART 1 (PG-13)**  
**HOOVER BUILDING**  
**WASHINGTON, D.C.**  
**THURSDAY AFTERNOON**

I've been watching them for a long time. They can be so stupid. 

I've lived for a long time and have come to know this thing. Once in a generation there comes a love so strong and so bright that it can blot out the rest of the world and heal all the ills of a human being. 

Theirs is such a love. It is deep, true and rooted in trust. But they don't see it. No, that's not right. They see it, but fear prevents them from acknowledging it. I can read his innermost thoughts, even ones he is not aware of. 

Who am I? 

I am a murderer. A lover of the macabre. They will be looking for me, but they won't find me until I am ready to show myself to them. The man is the smart one. If anyone could find me, it would be him. She is smart too, but her logic prevents her from seeing the unseen. He has no such barrier. 

I have many gifts. I can read minds. I have acute hearing and an acute sense of smell. I can move so fast that the naked eye cannot detect me. I can take to the air with the ease of a bird, thus rendering my capture nearly impossible for most human mortals. 

That's right. I am not mortal. I am immortal. I have lived for centuries. I have lived through many eras in history. 

I was born in Egypt in 1500 BC, during the reign of Hatshepsut. I was of a royal family and enjoyed the benefits of court life. I was made the creature I am at the age of 25, in the prime of my life. Later, I migrated to Scotland in the early 1600s and watched James IV of Scotland ascend to the British throne after the death of Elizabeth I, becoming the first of the Stuart line to rule England. I stayed there a long time. After the death of my master, I then migrated north to Iceland where I became entangled with the Vikings and did duty with Leif Erikson, and later, with Eric the Red. These bloody battles were a veritable buffet for me. I could feed on the dying and no one was the wiser. No one wanted night duty; I always volunteered, thus gaining the favor of our leader. 

I left them eventually, when their warring died down, and by the late 1600's, I was living in Spain when the Bourbons became a dynasty; I was there when Charles II died and left his throne to Philip of Anjou, son of one of France's great kings, Louis XIV. I was involved in the Spanish War of Succession that broke out that year. The war ended in 1713, and I moved on again, this time migrating to the other continent and landing in what is now known as Mexico. By 1825, Mexico had won independence from Spain under General Augustin Iturbide and modeled their constitution after the United States. 

1900 found me back in the fertile crescent of Persia, which is now known as Iran and Iraq. I loved the bone inlay artwork of the period and studied it obsessively. Every country in Europe has seen me as a resident at one time or another. 

I watched the rise and fall of Stalin in Russia, the rise and fall of Hitler in Germany, the First and Second World Wars and the Vietnam War, as well as the more recent fall of the Berlin Wall and the cold war. But enough with the history lesson. 

Civilization has changed in many ways throughout the centuries. But one thing stays the same; human nature. It is so fraught with frailties, and yet it is the backbone of every civilization. Some are enlightened, some are ignorant and backwards. Today, the world is a technological place, filled with both the enlightened and the ignorant. Everything from the software genius, to the Dalai Lama, to ignorant rednecks in the Michigan Militia, and every type in between. 

I've found the Internet to be a most interesting tool to lure my victims, although I must admit the challenge wore thin in a very short time. I prefer the hunt. I like to hit the pavement, so to speak. I like the exhilaration of the chase. I even like to feel their fear as I kill them. 

I love blood. I love the smell of it, the feel of it, the sight of it, the taste of it. The sound of it, too. Yes, blood has a sound. I can hear the dull whoosh of it pumping through the body if I stand close enough. It is nectar to me. I don't need it as much as I used to, but I still need it now and again to survive. But I don't pillage and rape the remote country sides like I used to; it's harder these days to go undetected. 

Ah, you must think me an evil creature. I suppose some would think so. Truly though, I do not consider myself evil. In fact, I've contributed much to the societies in which I have lived. I take what I need, but I give as well. 

I am rich. My wealth is nearly incalculable. I have many identities and many fortunes spread all over the world. I own everything from castles to condos. I am one of the fortunate few that has not succumbed to the boredom or depression of the ages. Acquiring 'things' has helped to keep me interested in life. 

There are not many of my kind left. Most have fallen into the depression of eternity and destroyed themselves out of despair. They were fools. The secret is to stay busy and continue to learn. An idle mind is a depressed mind. Oh, there have been periods where I was bored and had to make a concerted effort to find something I was interested in. But there is always something new to learn. 

I'm a genius. Does that sound arrogant? Well, I'm that too, but with good reason, I assure you. By virtue of centuries of education and a flawless memory, I would have had to be retarded not to have amassed a wealth of knowledge and intelligence on a plethora of subjects. 

I am one of the lucky ones. I was born with the dark skin of an Egyptian. Although I grow paler as the years go by, I still can pass for human. I suppose there will come a day when I will have to wear makeup, but I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. 

To see me, you would not know what I am. A killer, and yet ... a righter of wrongs. I choose those whom I will care for and I watch out for them with eyes that see more than you can imagine. Of course, being able to read minds and hear through walls doesn't hurt. 

These two humans have intrigued me since the day I found them. I can't even really tell you why. But over the last seven years, my interest has not waned. I've followed them on many of their investigations. They have no idea how many times I've saved their behinds. I've snatched pursuers off their trail. I've distracted those that meant them harm. I have to be careful not to interfere too much lest I be discovered. However, there is much I can do. 

There are many myths about my kind. Most of them are nonsense. I need no invitation to trespass on your territory and there isn't a talisman in the world that will stop me or repel me. Burnt flesh is the only smell that repels me, and that will not harm me; it merely makes me turn and walk the other way. My acute sense of smell can't handle that for too long. It brings back bad memories as well. 

I've been a good boy for a while now. However, I feel the urge to kill coming on me again. I haven't quite chosen my target yet. There are several to choose from. I'm very fussy. I like to find the most evil creature I can and take them down. None so far has been a match for me. 

I cannot be harmed by knives, bullets, gases, diseases, or drugs. Crosses are pretty, but they are just metal to me. Garlic stinks, but doesn't repel me or protect the wearer. I am nearly invulnerable. Even the aliens' green blood does not destroy me. It burns my skin some, but I absorb it like everything else. The wound heals quickly, usually within a day, and I move on. A side benefit is that I rid the world of another evil creature that would harm the humans. 

Since I kill mortals, you would think I don't care for them, but you would be wrong. I love mortals. They are a source of never-ending entertainment for me. 

My greatest defense in the world is simply that most people do not believe in me. I used to resent that, until I realized what an advantage it is. Humans will come up with every other possibility or unexplained phenomenon before they will concede the reality that there are monsters among them that they do not understand. Special Agent Dana Scully, M.D., is the quintessence of this type of person. 

My humans, and I do consider them mine, have been near to death several times from those green-blooded bastards, but I have saved them. Why, you ask? Because they are special. Because they have the one thing I don't have. I had a chance and I blew it. There is one other of my kind who has lived as long and is as strong as I. Unfortunately, I made the mistake of taking her for granted, and now she is gone. I don't know where. I have searched the world over for her. 

She is the only one who could ever have eluded my grasp for this long. She probably thinks I mean to try and take her by force, but I won't; that would be foolish. She is older and stronger than I. I intend to apologize, but I'm sure this has never crossed her mind. In fact, I can't remember myself the last time I apologized for anything. We do have unfinished business, though. 

I am actually thinking of having the humans help me find her. I know it sounds ridiculous, but sometimes the heart interferes. Combining their talents, they may succeed where I have failed. If any human could find her, it would be Fox Mulder. They wouldn't even need to contact her, just lead me to her and I could do the rest. I want what they have. I want that love of a lifetime; or in my case, the love of many lifetimes. I am creating that love. But I need to remove the threat to that love. And that means finding her before she finds me. 

Maybe I can figure out a way to make an exchange. Perhaps I can help them to realize their love and take advantage of all the benefits it has to offer before it is too late for them. And I will get help protecting the love of my life. 

Zebrosia. That's her name. Exotic, isn't it? Who knows what she calls herself in the real world, if indeed she even lives among mortals as I do. In the meantime, I am making a lover for the ages. I've had many temporary lovers, but it's been at least a century since I brought one to me, and by that I mean sharing my blood and making them what I am. He is almost ready. 

In the past, I have just hypnotized them and taken advantage with no thought to turn them to me but to slake my lust, which is considerable. As the years go by, however, I am finding that this is not enough. I am lonely and want a companion. I have no guarantee of ever finding Zebrosia. The threat of her may always be there. While this makes my heart ache, I am excited about creating my own companion. I can wait no longer for permission. 

It took me a long time to find one suitable for this. I needed a human that could endure pain, could keep my secrets, was well versed in subversive activities and would have a reason to be lured into immortality. He or she had to be attractive to me as well. I have found him and have been working for some months on grooming him for the change. But I'll get to that later. 

My name you ask? Which one? 

Ahh, here comes evil. I can smell him from down the hall. The smell of smoke and dust precedes him. I can't stand this man. He is more evil and self-serving than I have ever thought of being. His arrogance is most annoying and he thinks he owns me. What a joke. If he only knew how few days he had left. I nearly killed him when he took my Dana. But I did negotiate her release. 

He is one of the many I could choose from to satisfy my need for blood. He is going to die anyway. He is riddled with cancer and doesn't know it, because he refuses to see a doctor. He knows what they will tell him. The fool is hoping alien technology will save him. Let's see what he has to say today. 

Ahh, he knocks. He must want something from me. Generally, he just barges in like he owns the place. No doubt, he thinks he's surprising me when in fact, I hear and smell him coming from a mile away. I know it irritates him that I'm always sitting calmly as though I were waiting for his arrival. 

"Come in," I answer to his knock. 

He enters and closes the door behind him. 

"May I have a word?" 

"Certainly. What's on your mind?" 

He sits on the leather sofa facing my desk. "We are meeting on Friday." 

"Tomorrow. I'm aware of that," I say with thinly disguised sarcasm, urging him to get to the point without saying so. 

"Do you know what we are discussing?" 

"I have an idea." 

"Is it about who will lead the Consortium now?" 

Ah, so he's wondering whose ass he is going to have to kiss now. I smile indulgently at him, which I know annoys the hell out of him. "Maybe," I answer cryptically. 

"I should like to be prepared." 

"For what?" I ask facetiously. 

"Don't jerk me around!" he says suddenly, losing his grip on his thinly veiled control. 

"I'm not. There's nothing to prepare for. There are new members." 

"Who?" 

I smile again. "You will meet them tomorrow. The old consortium is gone, so put it out of your head. This is a new society. It will have a new leader and a new purpose." 

"Do you plan to lead now that Strughold is gone?" 

I tilt my head, contemplating how much to tell him. Should I frighten him? No. I don't want him making mischief before we meet tomorrow night. 

"Unless someone can give me a good reason why I shouldn't. Or unless someone makes a case why they should." 

"What about me?" 

"What about you?" 

"I think I've shown my loyalty. I have no real desire to lead the pack." 

Bullshit, I think to myself, easily reading his thoughts. He thinks I'm a young, arrogant fool that he can bring down given time. 

"No?" I taunt. 

"No, but I think I may have earned my place as the Second." 

"It's a real possibility," I say, baiting him and ensuring that he will mind his P's and Q's until tomorrow. Go ahead, kiss my ass a little more before I kill you. He does. 

He's smiling now and nodding his head with pleasure. "I would be equal to the task, I assure you. My actions speak for themselves, but I wanted you to know that I would be loyal in the extreme to you. I believe in you ... more than in the others." 

What a brown-noser, I think in disgust. 

"I appreciate that. But there is also the matter of Agents Mulder and Scully." 

"What about them?" he asks, his face growing slightly paler. 

"Nothing at the moment. But I don't want them harmed in any way." 

"I didn't know that," he said. "I didn't know you had any interest in them one way or another." 

"Of course I do. The aliens are interested in them. That automatically makes them of interest to me." 

"Of course." 

"I mean it, Spender. Stay away from them. I have specific plans for Mulder and Scully and I won't tolerate ANY interference." 

"I understand," he says immediately. I can read his swirling thoughts, wondering what my plans are. 

"Will you let us know, or let me know, what those plans are?" 

"Probably, when the time is right." 

"And when will that be?" he asks, pushing his luck. 

"Not now," I say with finality. "No more interference from you. I mean it. I'm still working on correcting the damage you did last time in turning them over to those green-blooded bastards. Dana was left barren and Mulder was almost killed during his abduction. Unless there is a serious shift in leadership, they are now under my protection. No one goes near them without my permission. Is that understood?" 

He understands now. He swallows, finally registering my irritation with his questions. He stands up. "I understand. Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow night." 

"Yes." 

"At the warehouse?" 

I wait a beat or two as if thinking. "No. I think we will meet at my house in Falls Church." 

He looks startled. "Isn't it dangerous for us all to be seen at your home?" 

"My staff is discreet and loyal. You will all arrive 15 minutes apart. Krycek is due at 7:30. I want you there at 7:45 PM, sharp. Is that clear?" 

"Yes." 

"I'll take care of security. It will be the last time we all meet for quite some time." 

He nods. "As you wish." 

He stops at the door and says, "I never meant for Mulder to be hurt." 

"Really," I say, my skepticism apparent. 

"He's my son," he states boldly. 

"Got news, Smokey," I reply. He hates it when I call him that. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

"You're wrong. You have no sons." 

He opens his mouth, then thinks better of the retort that is on his lips. I know Mulder is not his son. He is truly convinced that he is, but he's wrong. Bill Mulder is Fox's father, without a doubt. And guess what? Bill Mulder is Jeffrey Spender's father as well. How's that for irony? And how do I know this? I'll get to that later too. 

He turns on his heel and leaves, taking no further notice of me, which annoys me as well. People have no fucking manners these days. He no sooner leaves when I smell my favorite agent coming down the hall. I wonder if they speak to each other when they bump into each other accidentally. I listen. No words are spoken. 

But I hear my favorite human. He's thinking in stereo. 'Cigarette Smoking Bastard. Is he in cahoots with the Deputy?' I hear him hesitate and consider whether to come to me now. I reach out with my mind and soothe his fears. I whisper into the silence of the room. "Come to me, my boy. I won't hurt you." 

He is in motion again and I hear him approach my secretary, Kelli, a delectable little morsel that I would love to sample someday. I could hypnotize her easily, but I've held off. I like to tease myself. Another advantage of my immortality is the ability to become aroused on demand. I merely will it and my cock rises like the sun. It's a good size too. It was never small, but immortality has physical benefits too, and one of them was the ridiculous increased size of my anatomy. But the best part ... it's hard as marble when erect. 

I hear him in the vestibule to my office. "Kelli, hi." 

"Hello, Agent Mulder." 

"May I have a word with Deputy Director Fair?" 

"One moment, let me tell him you're here." 

My intercom buzzes as I chuckle internally. My chosen name here is Kendall Fair. All's fair in love and war. And I am fair too. A little inside joke with myself. 

"Sir, Agent Mulder would like a word with you. Do you have time?" 

"Do I, Kelli? You tell me," I respond, knowing full well I have no other appointments for an hour. I like to make her feel useful, and she is. She doesn't know that I carry a filofax in my head of dates, calendars, names, places and time zones, and more information than she could possibly learn in a lifetime. 

"Yes, sir. Your next appointment is with Deputy Director Kersh at 3:00 PM." 

"Ah, well, then send him in." 

"Yes, Sir." ****

* * *

PART 2 (PG)

**DEPUTY DIRECTOR KENDALL FAIR'S OFFICE**  
**HOOVER BUILDING**  
**WASHINGTON, D.C.**  
**THURSDAY, 2:00 PM**

I've been watching them for years, but am a new Deputy Director. A little selective hypnosis made the powers that be believe that I was a Deputy Director overseas and transferred to the United States. 

I smile broadly as he walks in, and stand up from my chair. Goodness, I forget how handsome he is sometimes. He smells good too. He wears that cologne that smells like fresh air. I wish I knew the name of it. His eyes widen a bit at my size like most people's do, but he recovers quickly and gains points by not mentioning it. I hate that. 'Oh, you're a big one, aren't you?' is a favorite among idiots. Or 'Oh, a long tall drink of water, aren't you?' is another clich that makes me grind my teeth. 

"Sir," he addresses me as he shakes my hand respectfully and then sits down as I indicate the sofa. 

"Good afternoon. Where is your partner, Agent Mulder?" 

"She's doing an autopsy this afternoon at Quantico." 

I knew that, but I like to test people just to see if they will lie to me. So far, so good. I'd planted information in his mailbox and hoped he would take the bait. Mission accomplished. He's here to ask me about it. I sit down and adopt a relaxed pose. 

"What can I do for you, Agent?" 

"Well, I was told to ask you about this." 

"By whom?" 

"Assistant Director Skinner." 

"Ah." 

"I want to investigate an X-File in New England. Kent, Connecticut to be exact." 

"And the problem?" 

"I want to go undercover with my partner." 

"Undercover as what?" 

"Husband and wife," he says tentatively. 

Ooo, wonder what's brewing here? But I sense no romantic plans on his part. Idiot. I love him, but he's an idiot where she's concerned. 

"What would you like to investigate?" 

He looks sheepish for a minute and says, "A haunted house." 

I raise my eyebrows. "A haunted house," I repeat. 

"Not just any haunted house. One that has been haunted for years, and has more solid evidence of ghost activity than most. The last few people who've lived there have been found dead." 

"So what do you need my permission for?" 

"Well, it's up for sale." 

"And you want the FBI to buy it?" I ask incredulously. 

"No!" he protests immediately. "I just wondered if we could set it up with the local police to make it look like we did. You know, make the purchase on paper with bogus credit cards or whatever." 

"And you would move in for the duration of your investigation." 

"Yes." 

"And if other cases need your attention in the meantime?" 

"We would certainly return to Washington. But Agents Doggett and Reyes are here and they can handle all but the most bizarre X-Files." 

"I see." 

"I know it sounds ridiculous, but there have been five murders and the cops haven't got a clue." 

"So it is indeed an X-File." 

"Yes, all the bodies have been found completely drained of blood." 

"Really? Isn't that interesting." 

He nods. "I think so. I mean, exsanguination is an unusual way to die." 

"I agree. It seems as though there is more to this." 

"There is. It's odd. An interesting pattern has developed; someone new buys the house, and winds up dead shortly thereafter. About three years later, the cycle repeats. And this has been going on for about fifteen years. The same type of death. It makes no sense ... yet." 

Ah, his charming passion and arrogance. He believes he can solve this. "What do you think caused their deaths?" 

"I'm not sure. It's too soon to speculate. I've read preliminary case files from the police in the area, but there are conflicting items in evidence." 

"Is there a common denominator in the victims?" I ask. How quick are you, my cerebral agent? 

"Yes." 

I raise my hand and wave for him to continue. 

"Uh, they were all..." 

"No need to be polite or politically correct, Agent." 

He smiles. "All right, then. Let's just say none of them would get the citizen of the year award. I don't even think their mothers will miss these guys." 

I laugh then, delighted that he'd discovered that so soon. He'd obviously looked into their backgrounds, something the bumbling local police had failed to do. They'd accepted the false identities without prejudice, considering them victims and therefore not delving too deeply. Mulder on the other hand, being the profiler that he was, had immediately done a victimology study and turned up the aliases and nasty backgrounds of the victims. 

"I assume you mean they were lawbreakers." 

"Of various kinds. One was New York Mob. One was a gun runner from South America. One was a French spy. One was a former Nazi." 

"And the last one?" 

He swallows. "His name was Herman Walsh." 

"What lovely crimes did he commit?" 

"You won't believe it, Sir." 

"Try me," I respond. 

"His fingerprints have turned up a match in four unsolved murders in the Bureau's computer system." 

I raise my eyebrows. "How's that?" 

"AFIS showed this same print turning up at four prior murder scenes but there had never been a match with an identity." 

"Ahh, so you've snagged yourself a serial killer." 

"We think so." 

"Well done." 

He smiles at the praise. "Of course, more tests are being done," he qualifies. 

"Like what?" 

"Well, actually, this death is fairly recent. He was found several weeks ago, but he's been kept in a morgue freezer in Danbury. No family has come forth to claim the body and the police asked them to keep it for a while as they tried to investigate the case. That's the autopsy Agent Scully is doing today. We had the body sent to Quantico." 

"The locals ran into dead ends, so you decided to step in and have a body sent to Quantico before you knew if you had permission to investigate the case." 

"Yes, Sir. We wanted to help ... and I was interested ... and ..." Clearly, he's wondering if I'm going to bust his ass about breaking the rules. 

I cut him off. "And you think you can succeed where the local police have failed?" I ask calmly. 

He straightens up in the chair. "I think my partner and I can, yes." 

I smile. I know I surprise him when I say, "I think you may be right, Agent Mulder." 

He smiles broadly. "I know it's a lot of money to spend, and we would need some things for the house, furniture and such ... but I promise it'll be a full court press with us living there. We have furniture and other things in storage we can use. The undercover unit has tons of things we could requisition." 

I smirk indulgently. "I have every faith that you will not waste the tax-payers' money, Agent Mulder." 

He chuckles. "The accountants in this place wouldn't agree with you." We laugh together then. 

"Yes, well, I'm not too fond of them either." He grins, enjoying the shared joke and thinking that I am not at all like he had expected. We've actually never spoken alone like this. 

"Send me the paperwork and I'll sign off on it. You'll need two cars, and an expense account for groceries and sundries. A.D. Skinner should have the forms. Requisition whatever you need, and I'll pass it up. I'll arrange myself for the house to be opened to you with bogus purchases. A.D. Skinner can handle the rest." 

"Yes, Sir! Thank you, Sir." 

"You seem surprised," I say gently. 

He nods. "I didn't really expect your approval," he admits. 

"Why is that?" 

He shrugs. "Most people don't take our work that seriously." I can tell that thought made him sadder than he was willing to admit. 

"I do." 

"How's that, Sir?" 

"I may not know you personally, Agent Mulder, but I know the agents in this building, and those under my supervision. I did my homework when I got this job. I know you have a very high solve rate on cases no one else can even begin to figure out." 

He looks down and swallows, looking slightly embarrassed but proud at the same time. "We try, Sir. But that hasn't stopped the brass from trying to shut us down." 

"You do a hell of a job, Agent. Some may not recognize the importance of your job, and the cases you and Agent Scully investigate ... but I do," I say with conviction. 

The corner of his mouth turns up as he meets my gaze again. "Do you believe in the paranormal, Sir?" 

I smile widely now. "In fact, I do." 

His eyes widen slightly. "Really?" 

"Yes. I've always been a believer. Let's keep that between us though, huh?" 

He grins now, showing his beautiful teeth. I lick mine, feeling my gums tingle. I'm excited by his expression and feel my groin stir with a wonderful tingling warmth. "Your secret is safe with me," he teases. 

I chuckle softly. "Good, but you needn't fear as long as I'm here and A.D. Skinner's your superior." 

"Sir?" 

"I was referring to your jobs, Agent Mulder, and the X-Files Division. They are in no danger as long as I hold this job." 

He smiles broadly again. "Thank you." 

"No thanks needed. Just keep solving those cases." 

"I'll do my best, Sir." 

"I'll talk to you again, Agent Mulder. I'd be interesting in hearing about more of your work, though I'm afraid I don't have time today." 

"I'd like that. Just let me know when." 

I nod my dismissal and he flashes a smile at me again and leaves the office, a bounce in his step. I grin internally. He can be so boyish sometimes. If I thought he would come over to me willingly, I would take him. But I know he wouldn't. Not without her. However, I am happy with my choice. I don't regret it. 

Tonight I will meet with my lover. I can't wait. Conversing with Mulder has made me horny as hell. Whenever I get enthusiastic about anything, I get horny. I take a deep breath. Tonight, in just a few more hours, I can take my latest lover and relieve some of my stress. 

Mulder has taken the bait as I knew he would. I feel contentment steal over me. I love it when a plan comes together! Everything is going exactly as I expected. My groin tingles again. 

xxxxxxxxxx  
**THE X-FILES OFFICE**  
**HOOVER BUILDING**  
**WASHINGTON, D.C.**  
**THURSDAY - 02:30 PM**

Even as he sits in his office in the bowels of the building, I can locate him and tune in on him, blocking out the others. He is on the phone. 

"Scully! You're not going to believe this!" 

[What now, Mulder?] I can hear her voice as it exits the headset on his phone. 

"Deputy Director Fair approved our case in Kent." 

[You're kidding?] She is obviously astonished. [How did you manage that?] 

"Well, I asked Skinner first. He was skeptical, but said he didn't really have a problem with it." 

[But ...] 

"But it would require expenditures beyond what he was authorized to approve. So he sent me to his boss, D.D. Fair." 

[The new guy.] 

"Yeah, and guess what?" 

[What?] 

"He's a _believer_ , Scully!" 

There is silence for a moment and then a definite tease in her voice as she responds to his boyish enthusiasm. [Believer in what, Mulder? Spending money?] 

Mulder laughs at her jest. "No, in the paranormal, but it gets better than that." 

[What could be better than that, hypothetically speaking?] she asks, still teasing. 

"He believes in US, Scully." 

[What do you mean?] The tease is gone now. 

"He knows our work. He knows our solve rate. He thinks what we do is important. I think this guy is going to take us seriously, Scully. For the first time in our careers, we may have someone in the brass on our side. He actually came right out and said that as long as he's here, the X-Files are in no danger of being shut down." 

[Be careful, Mulder. Don't let him get you to let your guard down.] Ah, always the careful one, my Dana. 

"I won't, but he seemed like a nice guy. He seemed sincere." I can hear the doubt in his voice. She really needs to stop discouraging him like that. 

[They all seem nice at first. Until they bring you up before the OPR for a hearing on misconduct,] she deadpans. 

"Killjoy," he teases. 

She chuckles. [That's great, Mulder. We'll talk more tonight. I have to finish up here and then I'm going home. I'm not going to go back to the office, so could you grab my laptop and bring it over?] 

"Sure thing, Scully. We'll make plans for the move." 

[God help me. What HAVE I gotten myself into?] she teases again. 

He chuckles again. "The adventure of a lifetime, Scully. We get to play house together." 

She groans in mock despair. [Been there, done that, Mulder. Remember Arcadia?] 

"Yeah, but you were no fun back then." 

[Hey! I resemble that remark!] she jokes. 

"See you about 6:00PM, Scully." 

[O.K.] 

She hangs up in his ear. I notice that they never say good bye and I find that interesting. ****

* * *

PART 3 (NC-17)

**KENDALL FAIR'S TOWNHOUSE**  
**GEORGETOWN, D.C.**  
**THURSDAY, 6:00 PM**

God, I am thirsting tonight. That small contact with Mulder has set me on edge. You may wonder if there is anything that can destroy me. There is. 

Fire or sunlight. But even that will have to be for a length of time. I'm so old now that I have resistance I didn't have a couple of centuries ago. I will burn and hurt and then lose my skin if left in the sun, but I will have to be left out in it for a long time to be killed by it. Fire can kill me if I don't put it out fairly quickly. 

How do I solve this dilemma? I go into work before dawn, and I leave after dark. I can do a quick sprint through the parking garage where the exposure is low and not suffer any ill effects other than tingling skin for a few moments. Inside, I have an office without a window. I tell them I have Discoid Lupus Erythematosus, of which one symptom is light sensitivity. If they only knew how sensitive. It's the UV that burns me. 

Mostly, I leave after dark and drive home as soon as the sun sinks below the horizon. I'm considered very dedicated for the hours I put in! 

I do have a wide brimmed hat with cloth flaps that tie under my chin and huge sunglasses that I can wear if I am ever forced to go out during the day. I make sure that those trips are short. I usually hurt for a few days afterwards, blame it on the Lupus and no one questions me. Those excursions are rare, though. 

I need very little sleep. A couple of hours a night is plenty. I wake about an hour before dawn, get ready and speed into work. So where most of my kind sleep all day, I don't need to. I had that need when I was young, but now I can go on very little sleep and lose none of my powers. 

Ahh, I can smell him. God, I hunger for him. He knocks and I holler, "It's open." 

He comes through the door, closing it behind him. "Hi, you wanted to see me?" 

"Yes, lock it behind you, would you?" I ask politely, rising from the couch. 

He does as asked and approaches me. "What's going on?" 

"Will you be there tomorrow?" 

"Of course. You told me to cleanse myself. Is that why you asked me here? Just to ask me if I was going to show tomorrow?" 

"No, of course not. I was making small talk. Remember how to do that?" I snap testily. God, I need to calm down. My thirst is making me cranky. 

He sighs. "Are you in need?" 

"Yeesss," I hiss. "I'm sorry I snapped. Would you like something to drink first?" 

"No." 

"Good." I take his hands in mine and examine him. His green eyes are shining with excitement. He loves this, the excitement. The thrill and danger of it. He's rather an adrenaline junkie, my sexy little morsel. My six foot, eight inch frame towers over him. I run my hands through his soft brown hair, enjoying the texture. 

"Do you want to go in the bedroom or stay here on the couch?" he asked. 

"Eager, are we?" I tease. 

He smiles and shrugs. "Why wait?" 

"Indeed. Do you need me to put you under?" 

He swallows harshly. "No, I don't think so. I didn't need it until the end last time. I think I can do it this time." 

"All the way?" 

"Yes." 

"You please me, pet." 

He smiles. "I'll try." I read his swirling thoughts and while there is flicker of resentment at my dominance over him, he nonetheless is excited and aroused by it as always. 

"Come in the bedroom. If tonight is the night you stay with me, we need room. I want you to be comfortable." 

He follows me as I drop his hands and turn my back on him. I feel his eyes on my ass and clench it purposely to tease him. Once in the bedroom, I turn and relieve him quickly of his clothes. He does the same for me. He takes a moment to stare at my naked body as he always does. My skin is caramel colored still, but you can see the odd shade of whiteness underneath. 

**XXXXXXXXXX**  
**THIS PORTION NC-17**

He reaches out to touch my hard torso, running his hands over my cold, bulging pectoral muscles and washboard abs. I respond, showing him my pleasure by willing my cock erect. He gasps, as he always does at this moment, and stares at it. His hand reaches out to grab it. His fingers barely touch around its girth. He pumps gently, whispering, "Oh God. You're always so fucking hard." 

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" 

He shakes his head. "Yes, I want this." 

I have slowly brought him around. I totally hypnotized him in the beginning. The next few times, I let him realize what was happening before I put him under. I gradually let the time increase that he was left in control of himself before pulling him under my control. I hoped tonight was the night he would remain awake and willing for the whole thing, and I am more excited than usual. The last time he stayed with me till near the end, but panicked when he saw my fangs and I put him under. I plan to take him from behind; this way he won't see me coming, although I will warn him first. 

I'd taken the _little drink_ from him, just a small sip, on numerous occasions. But I'd kept the blood lust at bay. He had to be awake for me to succumb to it. It was an odd quirk of my abilities that I couldn't hypnotize him and experience the blood lust at the same time. I am so hungry for it now. I want this one for myself. I hope tonight begins the process. 

If he makes it through, it's the real beginning of the process of changing him ... bringing him over to me. Unlike folklore, it's a gradual thing. I lost a finger as a mortal. Upon being steeped in the blood, as we called it back then, my finger grew back. Physical perfection is a benefit of immortality. This story was all the hook and lure he needed to have him want what I had to offer. 

I glance in the mirror, taking stock of myself. It is another myth that we can't be seen in mirrors. I quite enjoy looking at myself in the looking glass. I am a good looking man with an aquiline nose, black eyes, high cheekbones, square jaw and caramel skin. My hair is soft and jet black and I wear it long, curling around my collar. The FBI won't tolerate it longer. I have to cut it every morning, as it grows back at night. At the moment, it hangs to just below my shoulder blades already. It will be down to my waist by morning. I was Persian by birth, but I fancy I look American Indian now. 

My shoulders are broad, matching my height proportionally. My lips are full and sensuous for a man. I look like a body builder in my prime. I positively bewitch myself sometimes! I chuckle internally at my vanity. Then I turn my attention back to my apprentice lover. 

I fondle his body from neck to ass. I cup his ass and easily lift him off the floor. His legs spread wide around my waist. I love his trim waistline. His cock is fully erect, its respectable size for a human jutting up between our bodies, leaking pre-cum into his navel. His arms go around my neck and I kiss him, holding him aloft easily. He probably only weighs 200 pounds. I can easily lift 500 pounds without much effort. And I never sweat or smell, another benefit of being what I am. 

My tongue plunges into his mouth and he joins me in an oral dance, moaning as I swallow the vibrations and feel them sweep through my body. 

"Keenndaall," he moans. 

"Gareth," I correct him. 

He pulls back looking startled. "Gareth?" 

"That's my real name. The one I want you to use when we are together like this. Can you do it and not mix them up?" 

"Yes," he says without hesitation. He is well versed in the art of intrigue and false identities. He has had practice in his line of work. 

"Good." 

I walk easily to the bed and lay him on it. I crouch on all fours and begin teasing his body with kisses, suckling sharply on his nipples and feeling them rise up to hard little points of desire. I stroke his shaft, feeling mine throb between my legs and grow a bit wider and longer. It is always like this. The longer I prolong my pleasure, the more I grow. Every throb of blood in my veins swells my loins just a fraction more. 

Always before, I have had him masturbate to excite himself first and use a plug or dildo to loosen himself up. This way, I didn't have to wait long before penetrating him, thus keeping my size reasonable. 

He's in for a surprise tonight! He's never seen how big I can get, although he is well acquainted with the smooth, extreme hardness of my weapon. I have explained to him what will happen, but I don't think he really comprehends it. I rub the wide flared glans against his inner thigh, feeling the hairs on his legs scrape the sensitive skin. I shiver in delight. 

My body is completely hairless except for the hair on my head, another side effect of becoming immortal. I love feeling his hair against my smooth body. 

His hands reach around to grab my ass cheeks, cheeks that are like rocks in his hands. He squeezes them anyway, knowing I love it. I move down and take his shaft into my mouth and down my throat easily. I have no gag reflex at all. 

He groans heavily as I swallow, making the muscles in my throat undulate along his shaft. His hands grip my head and hold me in place. I can pull away any time, but I let him have the illusion of control. My tongue whips along the bottom of his shaft and I feel him pulse hotly on my tongue. 

I shudder and know I am reaching the next phase. I feel my gums tingle and know my fangs are starting to descend already. That usually doesn't happen this quickly. I am more excited than I thought. I quickly lift off him, lest I nick him with my teeth. I keep my mouth closed. I don't want to frighten him yet. 

I flip him over onto his stomach and kiss down his back, letting my tongue trail wetly down his spine. I reach his ass, my holy grail, and knead his cheeks harshly. I spread them wide and sink my mouth onto him, licking and sucking on his clean skin. He is soft and smells of soap. He's done as asked, and I know he has taken a high enema before coming over. His bowels will be soft and slippery. 

He moans, "Oh, I'm so hot. I can't wait to feel that marble rod up my ass." He has no idea what this will be like. I love it when he talks dirty. The crudeness excites me and brings out the animal in me. I don't care for it in polite conversation, but I favor it in the bedroom. 

"Oh, you will, lover. I'll shove myself deeper than ever before." He trembles slightly at my words. 

"Oh man, I want you so badly. Rim me, please!" 

I groan and make a spear of my sizeable tongue which can elongate to about four inches beyond my lips. I let my saliva drip down onto his puckered anus and watch it work its magic, softening the skin. Without preliminaries, I spear my tongue into his ass. When held out it is stiff as a human cock. He cries out in alarm as I sink a good three inches into his ass. With preternatural control, I begin moving my tongue in wide circles as I pull in and out, fucking him with my tongue. 

He shrieks once more and then just groans as I loosen him up and he begins to feel pleasure. My saliva takes the pain away. He would have pain soon, but now I want him to relax. 

He does and soon I am plunging my tongue into him with ease. I stop and hoist him up by the torso, surrounding him with my bulk, my arm banded around his waist, my legs straddling his thighs. 

His ass rests on his heels, his body cradled by mine. I feel another shudder go through my body and my fangs extend further. I prick my own tongue, tasting blood and shivering at the taste. There will be new blood tonight. 

My free hand reaches between us and pulls his ass cheek to the side, bending him slightly forward. "Put your arms down, lover." 

He does, supporting his weight on the bed. He must be willing. I glance at his arms and say, "If you stay with me, it begins tonight. Are you sure you want this?" 

"YES!" he cries out without hesitation. I feel my lips curl into a smile. I look down at my marble hard cock. A slow hard throb is pulsing through my whole body, ending in my cock with a small contraction and then further swelling again, expanding my sex still longer and wider. I am at about ten inches now. 

His hand reaches between his legs to grab my cock and guide it to his ass. I moan gently, noticing that his fingers don't touch anymore around the girth of my shaft and loving the feel of his callused hand on the smooth skin. The helmet of my cock is flared bluntly and broadly, nearly a quarter inch wider all around than my shaft and as hard as cast bronze. 

I'd better get inside him soon, or I am not going to be able to. "Brace yourself, beautiful," I whisper into his ear, hearing his blood pound in his veins with his excitement. His heart is pumping hard. I let my saliva fall from my mouth in a steady stream, washing over my cock, better than any lubricant. Then I let some more slide down the crack of his waiting ass. 

I put the head at his entrance and lean back, resting the weight of my own butt on my heels and just hold him there, applying slight pressure, letting his own weight bear him down. He groans, his beautiful muscular ass cheeks flexing, then releasing as he forces himself to relax, knowing what is in store for him. I push harder and harder, panting harshly to leash my lust. 

I can feel him finally giving way as I put enormous pressure on his entrance and jerk my hips, popping the wide, flared glans into his ass. I have to be at least 2-1/2 inches wide by now, which means my head is even wider. 

"Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!" he screams. I clench my ass muscles, holding still, letting him get used to the feeling of being spread so wide. 

"I'm gonna stuff you so full, lover." I begin flexing my hips slightly, easing a millimeter at a time inside him. I can feel his anguish as I leave a trail of burning pain in my wake as my iron hard cock tears and widens his distended sphincter muscle. 

"Ohhh, yeah, little lover. Take it deeper, pretty pet," I coo to him. 

"Oh Ga ... reth, I do ... don't know if I c ...can," he stutters. 

"Of course you can, lover, and you will. I'm not going to stop now. You've only got a few inches of me. You're going to take a LOT more!" I push hard, roughly, and force another inch inside him, ripping the soft tissues at his entrance. 

My body and my cock are cold to the touch until I have a victim's blood in my veins. Then I warm for a day or so. Right now, he probably feels like he has an icicle up his ass. 

"OOOOHHHH FFFUUUCCCKKK!" he screams in pain. I flex my hips again, easing in and out, in and out. I know what my cock feels like. I know how hard and unyielding it is. He feels like he has a glazed ceramic pipe up his ass right now. Despite that, and the thin line of blood that appears around the edge of his anus, I reach around and find his cock standing tall, nearly touching his stomach in its rigidity I spread his pre cum as it leaks freely from the head and pump him gently. 

He moans and I begin rocking, determined to get inside him. I know what will happen once I do and I am mad for it now. Each thrust pumps his cock through my hand. I can smell the blood from his torn tissue. I can feel his wild emotions and his body's confusion as it tries to process the wonderful feeling of my large hand stroking his cock in front and the stabbing pain in his ass as I rock in and out. I revel in the fear that heightens his arousal as it threatens to make him panic at the same time. He is sweating and I can smell his fear. My nostrils flare as I inhale deeply of his scent. 

His roiling confusion excites me. I am hurting him but he is finding pleasure in the pain. In and out, sinking to six inches, in and out, now seven, in and out. 

My balls grow too and are the size of grapefruits now, filling with boiling jism, my jism, which is not like any human sperm. I rock and push hard again, forcing my cock to invade his tight ass, causing his muscles to convulse on my rigid shaft. I bellow, "Scream like a bitch for me!" 

I ram myself into him hard, sinking at least eight inches into him. He screams; long, blood curdling screams issue from the back of his throat until he runs out of breath. I can feel the head of my cock slowly sinking deeper with every stroke, feeling his bowels and maybe some internal organs give way. 

It is sinful. It is delicious and it is divine. I can feel his ass convulse, the muscles spastic as they try to stretch to accommodate my girth as I continue to thrust in and out, sinking deeper with every stroke. Oh fuck, I am almost there. I am at least three inches wide now and my shaft presses his muscular ass cheeks to the side as I slide in and out. I mumble in his ear, "Aww my pigeon. You are going to take all of me tonight." 

"Oh God! You're so much bigger! Too wide, oh shit, you're too big! Awww, fuck, you're hurting me you giant bastard! So wide!" 

I chuckle and speed up, knowing he doesn't really mind the pain, that it is erotic for him to a point and he still wants it. I can read him like a book. He likes to excite me by putting up a fuss and resisting some. I must admit I like feeling my power and my superior strength over him. 

"Awww, no! How much more?" he asks as the pain starts to edge out over the pleasure. "You're making me bleed, aren't you?!" 

"A couple of inches more, and I'll grow even more when I take the blood. You haven't even begun to bleed like you're gonna bleed." I hiss at the thought of it, feeling my gums begin to throb and ache. 

"Oh Christ, don't kill me! Just don't kill me!" he shouts. He is suddenly, truly panicked. 

I wonder where he got the idea that I would kill him? Oh, the hissing. It is an unnatural sound to him, but is merely a sign of my extreme excitement. "No, sweet child. Calm down. I will not kill you, my pet. I promise." I pant and reassure him. 

I stroke gently for a few minutes, feeling his panic subside and the pleasure creep in again. I sense his pain beginning to fade and mingle with the pleasure as his ass continues to try and grip my smooth, huge shaft that is pulsing and getting ready to enlarge again. 

I throw my head back, hissing, my fangs fully extend. I feel another throb and he shouts, "Oh fuck, you just got bigger!" 

Here it comes, the blood lust. I haven't felt it in such a long time. I'd forgotten how euphoric it is. My whole body throbs and flushes hotly. I'm trembling from holding back my extreme lust. I shout, "Do you need to go out? Tell me NOW! I'm gonna take you. I can't stop it now!" 

This is his last chance to back out. "NOOOOOOO!" he screams again. "Take me!" 

I sigh in relief and joy, only now realizing I expected him to cave in at the last moment. My arms slide down under his knees, lifting them and curling him into a fetal position, mashing his head into the mattress. "Get ready, my little pain lover. This is going to be the fuck of your life. I'm gonna split you wide open." 

I rear up to squat over his upturned ass. I lean forward, bracing him with one arm. One deep breath and I pull my hips back and snap my hips, driving the full length of my now 11 inch cock into his ass. 

**"OOOHHHH ... GOOODDDDD, ... NNNNOOOO, ... GAARREEETTTHHH! ...** AHHHHH, ... AHHHHH, ... AHHHH!" he screams out with every thrust that impales him completely. 

I curl over him, yank his head back and to the side by his hair and sink my fangs into the vein on the side of his neck. His body jerks beneath mine and he goes rigid as I take one long pull, feeling his warm blood splash on my tongue and slide down my throat. I close my lips on his skin so as not to lose any. I've always believed in being tidy when I can. But this is going to get messy in a minute. 

Ambrosia. He is ambrosia. I hold myself still inside him. I take four long pulls of his blood, filling my mouth and swallowing. I hear myself growling loudly in ecstasy. Each pull causes an aching throb to wash through my torso, ending in my cock and extending it another half inch or so, and widening my girth. 

He screams with each pull that swells me inside him, punching my cock head deeper into his bowels, straightening his coiled colon and weakening his resistance with the loss of the blood. Pictures of his life flash before me and I know where he's been, know more about him than he knows about himself. My little pearl has not had an easy life. Better things definitely await him. 

I begin to pull my hips back again and slam into his defenseless, obscenely stretched ass. I am no longer sucking his blood from him but letting it seep into my mouth from his neck wounds, still held open by my fangs, sipping lightly, the taste sending near orgasmic electric shocks through my body. 

I feel his new blood flowing in me and mixing with mine. The blood sings in my veins, exciting me beyond reason. I am becoming the creature that I am in my purest form. It is euphoria and pushes me toward my climax. 

I must look like a baseball bat slamming into his exquisitely tight ass, forcing those cheeks aside as I drill deep into his ass. I have topped out at 13 inches long, and four inches wide. I will grow no more now. He is taking more of me than he ever thought possible. 

He never stops screaming, "OOOHHH, GGGOOODDD, NNNOOO, **GGGAARREETTHH! AHHHH! AHHHH! AHHHH! AHHH! OH GOD,** **I'M GONNA DIE! AH, JESUS, YOU'RE RIPPING ME TO SHREDS!** **OH FUCK! MY BALLS ARE GOING TO EXPLLOODDEEE!"**

I am so much bigger than he and I reach down and easily pump his rigid staff and peer over his shoulder, watching his cock begin to shoot long, ropy streams of cum each time I plunge into his ass, abusing his prostate. Each stroke of mine is producing another rope of cum from his balls, emptying them of their enormous pressure. I know he's never come like this in his life. I want this to be worth it for him. There has to be a reward for his sacrifice. 

I am in ecstasy, feeling my pre cum leak like a faucet in a steady stream from the hole in the end of my cock and seep into his bowels. I know it descends, his tissues absorbing it like a sponge, filling his nut sacks till they feel like they will burst. He never goes soft even after coming so hard. Every time he absorbs me now, his genitals will grow too. The change will begin. 

I retract my fangs finally. I have taken enough from him. To take more would make him too weak. He must be able to regenerate what he has lost over night, but I'd be lying if I said the urge isn't there to drain him dry. I force myself to pull away from his neck, licking the small trail of blood as I plunge into him over and over again, watching the skin of his neck heal over. He is no good to me weak or dead. 

I ram in again and again, spearing him on my monster cock that is hard as steel. I put a hand over his abdomen above his navel and can feel myself, racing inside, and distending the skin of his stomach. Oh God, I am splitting him in two. I am completely feral now and reveling in my ecstasy, hissing and growling as the waves of pleasure wash over me, as I rip him in half. 

I love the sound of his screams, knowing my sound proofed walls will absorb it all. Here it comes, baby. The finale. 

I pull his hands up and he grabs the headboard to anchor himself. I lean up on my knees, grabbing his hips and slam into him to the hilt, feeling my swollen nuts swing and bounce off his taut scrotum. His balls have swollen to the size of large oranges. 

I feel my cum coil in my enormous nuts that hang half way down my thighs now and hold about two quarts of cum. I let go and it begins shooting up my cock with the force of a fire hose. 

I bathe his bowels in my cum. It is a combination of a thick saliva like substance that heals, and blood. I am spearing his tight ass faster and faster, my hips a blur as cum starts to spray out of the torn hole around my cock, coating his ass cheeks, though most of it is forced deep inside. 

I delight in his screams as his balls swell to bursting and he erupts again, releasing all of that backed up liquid, as I stroke deeply. Stroke, spray, stroke, spray, stroke, spray. 

His body shudders and goes rigid on my shaft with every thrust, squeezing me with exquisite tightness as he ejaculates streams of his cum mixed with my blood. The sheets are soaking with our combined juices. He is hoarse from screaming when it finally dies down and both our cocks are merely dribbling semen. He passes out for a few seconds. I gently extended his legs so he is lying flat on his stomach. 

My cock is slow to deflate. I ease half way out and back in, gently now. In and out, in and out. For a half and hour I stroke his torn and abused ass hole with my gigantic cock, keeping myself hard. My hands slide under him to pinch his nipples. 

He groans continuously as I stroke into him, unable to end the euphoria I feel as his blood warms my skin for the first time from the inside out. I murmur in his ear. "My exquisite pet. You're mine now. You feel so good. I love spearing your lithe, tight body. Next time I'll let you have a little blood. The ecstasy lasts longer then." 

He groans at my words, my hips speeding up slightly as I think of the days to come. Once he can drink from me, his endurance and pain tolerance will increase. Oh mercy, I'm leaking pre cum again. He moans as his balls swell again. I reach under him and cup his balls in my large hand, squeezing gently. He jerks under me and ejaculates again, one more time, and then again, his moans weakening. 

"I'm gonna fuck you every night, beautiful. And by the end of a couple of weeks, I'll be making you climax for a half hour straight." On that note, he moans and passes out and I let go, my sperm shooting into him again. There isn't a lot of juice this time, but the feeling is deep and satisfying. 

I ease gently out of him, feeling my cock shrink back down to its normal flaccid eight inches. He groans desperately as I exit. I feel another wave of arousal as I view his gaping ass, his pink bowels winking at me, a pool of my reddish cum sitting inside him. But I am sated at last. 

**XXXXXXXXXX END NC-17 PORTION**

I open my mouth and prick my tongue, letting my blood trickle inside him. He immediately begins to tighten and heal up. He moans again, still not able to speak, at the sensation of his tissues tightening up and reconnecting. 

His ravaged ass will be good as new in a few minutes. I massage his ass cheeks and flop over on my side next to him. I pet his hair and shower his face with kisses. 

"Oh my beautiful, you did it." 

He smiles weakly. "I don't know what to say. That was the most ... painful ... erotic thing ... I've ever experienced. I never knew so much pain could make me mad with lust." 

I chuckle. "Ahh, my Alex. You were made for me." 

"I was so scared, but I came so hard, so long ... my balls ..." 

"I know." 

"You're the only one I'd ever admit being scared of." 

I chuckled again, finding him so endearing, my little tough guy. "Shhh, I know, and it's just the beginning. Sleep now, baby. I'll wake you before dawn." 

He closes his eyes and falls almost immediately into a deep slumber. There is no chance of disease or infection for me and I know his ass will heal from my blood and saliva which is like magic on humans. But I roll him gently and take the sheets off. I throw them in the hamper and bring out some fresh ones. I pick him up and lay him on the carpet. He never stirs. 

I put fresh sheets on the bed, not wanting him to sleep in dampness. I clean him off with a wet, soapy washcloth and I place him back on the bed, and roll him onto his side, spooning up behind him. I feel warm and sated with his rich blood, more content than I have in years. For the first time in a century, a human knew what I was and willingly gave himself to me. I feel a wave of affection steal over me and I stroke his soft face, kissing his cheeks. 

This one is mine now. He won't turn yet. That will take a while, several nights of drinking my blood. But a few more orgasms like that and I will own his soul, making him a slave to this pleasure. No one but I will ever satisfy him again. He will be mine. At last, I will have a companion for all time. One of my own making. I ruffle his hair in a what I'm sure to him would be a surprisingly gentle gesture of affection. 

xxxxxxxxxxxx 

I wake him at 4:30 AM, knowing the dawn will come in an hour and a half. I roll onto my side, putting my back to him, feeling a curious emotion that hasn't assaulted me in a long time. Sadness. I don't want to leave him. I suppose this is a side effect of coming off the blood lust. After such ecstasy it would be bound to be a let down. I don't want to need him, although I know this is foolish. I wouldn't be doing this at all if I didn't need him. I guess my ego doesn't want to admit that to him, or let it show. 

**XXXXXXXXXX**  
**THIS PORTION NC-17**

Alex is undaunted by my body language and crawls up behind me, throwing a leg over my thighs, an arm over my ribs and pressing his morning erection into my ass. He has done this before, masturbated himself on my hard body. I have never pushed him away. I let him do it and usually lie here like a stone on these occasions, not letting on how much it pleases me that he lusts for me as well. 

Today though, I'm feeling melancholy and generous. I want to shock him. And as I lie there thinking about it, he was marvelous and so brave last night and deserves a reward. Our relationship has moved into a new stage. He should be entitled to take more liberties. I don't want a slave, I want a companion. 

He jumps as I reach back and take hold of his hot cock. My body is still warm from his new blood. I stroke him gently and he moans. I can sense his astonishment and pleasure that I am reacting this time. I guide him to my ass and he gasps in disbelief. "How do you feel, Alex?" 

"Fine. I seem to have completely healed as you promised I would. It's amazing." 

I line him up with my anus and gently push back into him. 

"Gareth?" 

I whisper. "Take me, little one. Relieve yourself in my body." 

I hear him swallow noisily. "You sure?" 

He's wondering if this is a trick. "I'm sure." 

His good hand grasps my hip and I tip my ass up to give him better access. Once he is placed at my entrance, I let go and bring my hand back in front of me. He begins to push and I can feel his nervousness. Is he afraid of retaliation, I wonder? I read him and feel his nameless fear. He wonders if this is a test. 

I reassure him. "No hidden agenda, beautiful. Just a reward for your incredible bravery last night. You do not need to be gentle, Pet. Go wild. You cannot hurt me." 

He groans, low and deep in his throat. He shoves roughly inside me, moaning. I gasp myself at how pleasant it feels. I've never let him inside before, and he knows what a privilege this is. I feel his gratitude wash over me for what he considers a great favor. I shiver in delight. "Yes, pet. Love me hard." 

He does and I thrill at the noises and pleasure sounds he makes as he rams into me repeatedly, sending tingling sensations all through me. "Uh, uh, uh, oh yeah," he mutters. 

He whips his hips back and forth, burying himself to the hilt. I do not come or make myself erect. This is all for him, his reward. He finishes quickly and cries out, "I love you!" as he cums in my ass. 

I feel his warmth spread inside and squeeze my muscles to draw out his pleasure. He moans and slips out of me. "That was wonderful," he whispers. 

**XXXXXXXX END NC-17 PORTION**

"You have to leave now," I say gently. I won't tell him how much I love him yet. Not yet. I don't want him to have that knowledge and power just yet. 

I feel his disappointment, but he says, "I know. Thank you, Gareth." 

"Thank you, love. You've made me very happy." 

"I'm glad." I roll over and kiss him gently before he rolls out of bed and heads for my shower. 

I lay there in the dark, windows barely lit by the soft light of the lamp on the bedside table. I'm hungry again. The blood lust brings on the craving and I want more. I can't take from him again, not for a couple of days. But tonight will be a feast, whether from my guests or from the hunt. ****

* * *

PART 4 (PG)

**FAIR ESTATE**  
**FALLS CHURCH, VA**  
**FRIDAY EVENING - 7:30 PM**

Alex is here already. The rest will arrive shortly. 

I'm looking forward to tonight, to asserting my power over this ragtag band of outlaws. That is the way I see them. They think they are so sophisticated, when in fact, they have the manners of goats. 

I know who is loyal to me and who is not. Those who are not will die tonight. Alex will help me, further binding him to me with invisible chains of love, pleasure and obligation. He has been a slave of one sort or another his whole life, whether he knows it or not. He thinks he is independent, when in fact he is much better off when someone makes his decisions for him. He is lost without a leader and I intend to be that leader. 

He is loyal to me. I can see into his mind. He worships me but doesn't want me to know it. I like his spunk. I have no desire to humiliate him. I will let him think he keeps his devotion from me. He needs his pride and I will not take that away from him. 

I hear my butler open the front door some minutes later and steal a kiss from Alex. I wink at him as I make my way out into the vestibule, garnering a sweet smile from him. 

Unlike my townhouse in Georgetown, this place is a veritable palace with fourteen rooms, a salon, a dining room and library. We will be in the dining room for most of the evening, and then retire to the salon for coffee and cigars. I pretend to drink beverages. I have no need of them. I CAN drink them if I have to, but it usually causes me to have an odd sensation in my body until I can purge the foreign substance. 

I blame my lack of eating on the Lupus at these dinners, citing a strict diet and claiming that I have eaten before hand. This way, I hold court at the head of the table and can observe everyone as they eat and sift through their thoughts. 

To clarify for the uninitiated in mind reading, I don't just hear a cacophony of sounds and voices. I have to focus on the person and direct my thoughts to them, and then open a channel to see inside. I can do this without giving away what I'm doing, but it does require a conscious decision on my part. I don't always read the people around me. To read everyone I come in contact with would be an exhausting exercise. Tonight, however, I will be reading everyone, one by one, to determine who lives or dies. It's rather like playing God and I must admit, I enjoy my power. 

I am not drunk on my power. I know I have weaknesses, for although I am immortal, I am not free of mortal emotions. It does take a much more powerful event to evoke emotion from me, but I do feel and care for people. I am not without remorse for mistakes I have made in the past. I have done good and I have done bad, like any man. It just happens that because I've lived for centuries, I've had an opportunity to acquire quite a list on both sides of the ledger. 

I greet Spender and Vogel and show them into the dining room, where the servants have put hors d'oeuvres on the table. I offer them drinks and then settle in at the head of the table. We are waiting for three more before we begin dinner. 

Alex sits on my right, casting furtive glances at me. He is excited but wants to appear calm to me and not look over eager. I don't need to read his mind to know this. His body language and sheepish looks tell me everything I need know. 

I hear the doorbell and hear Jack, the butler, open the door for our other two guests, Windemere and Sullivan. One is a British politician, the other a scientist with a chemical plant. They are prestigious men with greed in their hearts. I won't kill them for pride. But I will kill them for disloyalty and thoughts of assassination and taking my place. Little do they know how difficult and yet how easy it would be to kill me. It would be easy in that fire would do the trick. It's the one thing that can make me panic. Ironically, it's Mulder's weakness as well. It would be difficult in that it would be nearly impossible for them to overpower me or catch me if I decided to run. 

Kersh is the last to arrive. Now we may begin. 

Here we go, I think as they sit down at the table. I signal one of the staff to start dinner. Delicious smells waft out of the kitchen. I no longer salivate at the smell of food, but still enjoy the smells. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx 

CGB Spender, Clyde Vogel, Philip Windemere, Dr. Brian Sullivan, Alvin Kersh, and last but not least, Alex Krycek make up the guests around the dinner table. 

Alex sits to my right and CGB to my left. Spender has the art of making menacing faces down to a tee as he tries to intimidate Alex, as if he has some secret knowledge about this meeting that Alex doesn't. Of course, he thinks he's going to be named second in command. 

"Gentlemen, I will come right out and say that this meeting is to determine the roles of each of you in the New Consortium. There will be new leadership and new goals in which you will all play a part. I hope to define each of your roles before the night is over. First, however, please eat heartily at my table. My cook has been slaving in the kitchen all day." 

They all smile. I push a button on the end of the table that rings a button in the kitchen intercom. I speak, knowing the staff can hear me. "Please begin serving." 

Five seconds later, the kitchen staff of five begins pouring into the dining room and setting out dishes one, after the other, and serving everyone but me. They know better. I claim to prepare my own meals when they are off duty. I leave things in the refrigerator and take them to work to make it look like I eat every day. I usually throw it out. It's a waste, I know, but sometimes I plead a lack of appetite and give it to Kelli or someone else searching for something edible in the cafeteria vending machines. 

I figured my little speech would get their gears turning and I am right. As they eat, I focus on them, one at a time, and read their thoughts on the new Consortium and more importantly, on me. 

Vogel, Sullivan and Windemere are excited about the upcoming negotiations and just glad to be included in such a powerful group. CGB is already plotting how he can pull strings behind my back and Kersh hates me with a passion, thinking of me as a young, arrogant fool that would get them all killed. 

I am old beyond their reckoning. I snicker internally at their ignorant thoughts. It seems our new members will be the ones to survive, and the old members, with the exception of Alex, will die. Windemere is young and the grandson of the man they previously called the Well Manicured Man. He is young but very sharp and has an extremely good business acumen. I think I will probably put him in charge of the finances for the group. Clyde Vogel is an American Senator from Maryland. He will be in charge of any legal matters we may have to deal with in our activities. Dr. Sullivan will be added to my secret laboratory in France to work on more antidotes to the alien virus. 

Alex will be my second as I know he will have the power and strength to do my bidding and keep the others in line. He will have more freedom to move than the others and will be able to travel unseen for the most part. But mostly, I give him this because he will be totally loyal and dependent on me. He will really be the only one I trust implicitly. 

Contrary to common belief, he is trustworthy. Mulder and Scully don't like him. His mistake has always been in his secrecy. While secrecy is necessary to a point, he has held too many cards close to the vest. I will teach him the art of giving out just enough information to make people trust you and make you not seem so mysterious. 

Tonight, the other two will die. Once dinner is finished, I explain what types of accounts I want set up in Switzerland and the Cayman Islands. Windemere pulls out a small notebook and takes copious notes. When done, I advise him, "When you are done with the arrangements, destroy those notes." 

He nods. I hit a second buzzer and my butler appears. 

"Jack, please bring my checkbook to me." He nods and leaves the room, knowing where I keep it. 

I turn to Clyde and say that he will be in charge of any legal matters that may turn up, and explain that I will help him with any influence on the hill should we need legislation passed. He nods and takes no notes. I tell him that I will contact him when needed. 

Next I turn to Sullivan and explain that he will be relocating to France. He pales slightly and I ask, "Is this a problem?" 

"Uh, not really." 

"What is the problem?" I read him briefly. 

"I'll need to make some arrangements is all." 

"Your mother?" I ask kindly, surprising him that I know about her. I didn't until a few seconds ago. She is old, feeble and wheelchair bound in a convalescent home. 

He swallows and nods. "I was going to bring her home with me as soon as I got enough money. I've been saving." 

He shrugs his shoulders as if embarrassed to have such a mundane problem and be admitting it in front of these powerful men. 

"Don't fear on her account. I will arrange for her to be flown to France and installed in your home with you. I'll hire a private live in nurse that speaks English for her and she can stay with you." 

"Really? You'll do all that?" 

"Of course. One should always care for their family." I look pointedly at Spender and he turns away from my glare. 

"That will be a lot of money, Mr. Fair," Windemere states the obvious. 

"I can afford it, Mr. Windemere, and both your services are valuable to me. Don't think they aren't. I know you are making a sacrifice to work for me but I'll try to make it worth your while. Your salary will increasing as well." 

"A lot?" he blurts out, garnering a smile from me. I can read him and there is no greed there, only curiosity. His passion is his science, his love is for his mother. He feels hope for her comfortable and dignified demise for the first time in years. Maybe he can be the good son after all and take care of her until the end. 

"We'll discuss it later, Dr. Sullivan, but be assured it will be substantially more than you make now. You will have a new identity, of course, and new papers." 

He nods. 

"The government will never know you are back on French soil. I've seen to that. All your records will mysteriously disappear." 

He beams, not bothering to ask how I will accomplish this feat. Then he goes back to eating his chocolate mousse which was not quite finished. I've made him one very happy man. His mother is his only tie to the states. He emigrated from France on the lam from the government for being a spy for Germany about 15 years ago. He speaks fluent French, German and English and has never had a lover to my knowledge the whole time he's lived here. He left the love of his life back in France all those years ago. Funny thing, she happens to be a nurse! Hopefully, Alex will have her in our employ in no time. 

With luck, I will reunite another love of a lifetime with his soul mate. I am a romantic at heart. 

Kersh speaks up finally. "What about me?" 

"You will stay right where you are. However, I will need your assistance in diverting attention away from me and my activities within the Hoover Building from time to time. You're very good at coming up with tasks for people to do and keeping them busy," I say to stroke him slightly. "I want that to continue, only I will be telling you who needs to be on assignment out of town and when." 

He recoils a bit at my authoritative tone, but nods. He is already plotting rumors to spread about me to topple me out of my position in the Bureau. He wants to send a hooker to my office and have me be caught with her, among other things. What a fool. He won't be getting the chance. 

And now for CGB. Kersh and he must walk out of here tonight believing their futures are secure, even if they don't like the roles they've been assigned. 

Spender looks at me expectantly, that annoying little half smile on his lips. "Spender served under Strughold and has a lot of experience in covert activities and many ties in government. He will be the bridge between the old and new consortium, letting us know of past experiences so that none of us make mistakes with the new group. Because of that valuable resource of power, he will be my Chief Lieutenant. 

"Many of his physical duties will be much like Kersh's, only in the field, rather than in the FBI." His chest is puffed out now like a bantam rooster and I have to struggle not to laugh out loud. He is so full of himself right now that if I poked him with a pin, he'd probably explode like a balloon. That visual makes me smile as well. I turn to him, "Don't make me regret this decision." 

"I won't. Thank you, Fair," he says. "I didn't really believe you would have faith in me." 

"I don't, really," I admit and his face falls. "But you are a valuable resource. However, you'll have to prove yourself me, make no mistake about that. One slip and I'll make you wish you were never born." 

He seems to shrink under my regard but nods and finds his voice. "I've done it before, I'll do it again ... prove myself, that is." 

"Good. Now that this is all settled, we can retire to the salon for coffee and cigars." 

Windemere looks at Alex. "What about him?" 

"Ah, yes. Alex and I spoke before you all arrived." They all look peeved at that. "He understands that he is the youngest of us and does not hold a position of ... import. Therefore, Alex will be the muscle of the group. If someone needs to disappear, or is on your trail, Alex will be your man ... with my permission of course. Any hits will be sanctioned by me. No one will eliminate anyone without my express permission. Are we clear on that?" 

They all nod, everyone but Spender and Alex looking vaguely mortified at the prospect. "Alex is low man on the totem pole for now." 

He winces and bristles visibly, but I speak to him in his mind. *Easy, pet. It's just a comment for their benefit. You will be taking his place in no time.* 

His feathers are no longer ruffled and he nods in deference to me. 

Out loud, I say, "However, I demand that you show him the respect you would to any other member of the group. Alex may not be in a position of importance in government, the financial world, or the scientific world, but he has shown extreme loyalty to the old Consortium and to me so far. He is not yours to order about. He will report directly to me, as will you all. If you need his ... unique talents, you will come to me and not take things into your own hands or ask Alex behind my back. Believe me, I will know." 

Again, there is a round of accepting nods except from Spender. I glare at him and raise my eyebrows. "What if I need to make a command decision in the field?" he asks. 

Always the devil's advocate, this one. "You may make command decisions on your missions in the field with respect to everything EXCEPT the elimination of someone. Is that clear?" 

"Crystal," he mumbles. 

"You will all be given secure land lines and my cellular phone number. Cellular is not secure, so only use it in extreme emergencies and be careful what you say. I will know you need my help immediately if you call on my cellular. I will be available to you 24 hours a day." 

Jack returns with my checkbook and I make out six different checks to CASH in obscene amounts and hand them to Windemere. His eyes bulge at the amounts. There is one for every account I want opened. They will be used as budgets for various things. One for payroll, one for field expenses, one for experiments and one for bribes. The other two are for emergency travel or housing expenses for anyone we may need to hide or move in a hurry. It is but a fraction of my American fortune. 

"You are dismissed. I will contact you separately to advise you of your individual salaries. I don't think anyone will be disappointed. I will be in touch with all of you with further information and your first assignments. In the meantime, I don't think I need to tell anyone that as far as prying eyes are concerned, this group does not exist. Don't let me find out you talked to anyone, even your families, about what you are doing for this group." 

They all agree and stand to leave. I ask Spender and Alex to stay as I wish to discuss one more thing with them. The rest leave, smiling. Even Kersh seems more resigned to his role and is thinking that maybe a limited involvement won't be such a bad thing. 

I send the staff home to complete the set up for our fait accompli. 

"Come, you two, we have plans to make." I lead them both onto my back porch. I'm almost giddy with anticipation. I must admit I love the intrigue. ****

* * *

PART 5 (NC-17)

**OLD FARMHOUSE**  
**BULL'S BRIDGE ROAD**  
**KENT, CT**  
**FRIDAY EVENING**

The house sits back from the road, with only the driveway and a forlorn looking mailbox to mark the dirt driveway. Bull's Bridge, a famous covered bridge in New England, is less than a mile away. From there, you can almost spit and hit the New York State border. Beyond the bridge lies small intersection known at Dog Tail Corners. Civilization as we know it is a long way from here. 

Below Dog Tail Corners is finally some civilization in the town of Webatuck and South Dover in New York State. This property lies in a valley between mountains. We are surrounded here by Segar Mountain, Schaghticaoke Mountain, Cornwall Mountain and Kent Mountain. This small valley in Kent lies in a valley between these mountains near the New York State border. There is a lot of history here and native American folklore, but there isn't a cell phone in sight. It reminds me of the wilds of forests across Europe in the late 1800s. Life moves at a slower pace here. Most people have never been to Washington D.C. or New York City. The favorite past times are tractor pulls and fly fishing. 

Strangers are welcome but watched with a wary suspicion. As long as you don't cause any trouble with the locals, they are prone to ignore you. It has been a perfect place for me to hide over the last fifteen years when I needed to get away. I actually owned the property on which the old farmhouse sat. 

I've sold and repurchased it repeatedly under a different name each time. Amazing what you can do through accountants and never have to show your face for a closing. I jokingly call it 'Real Estate by Mail'. The owner in the Town Hall of Records is now listed as Garrett Viking. 

It was a small personal joke. Garrett is the name I chose when I rode the high seas with Leif Erikson and Eric the Red. Ah, those were the easy days, when prey was plentiful and easy to find. My blood sucking was often a mercy to those dismembered and dying anyway. 

I stand in the shadows and reminisce about the past night's activities. I'd led Spender out to the porch in the rear of my house with Alex in tow. 

I'd proceeded to reveal to Spender his every traitorous thought. His fear was palpable and his astonishment plain. He asked if I could read minds and swore he would change his ways, that he would never betray me, despite what he might think now and again. When he realized I was not going to buy his begging and pleading and grant him reprieve, he tried to run. 

It was comical. I'd let him run out into my back yard, many acres of mown grass stretching before him. There are no neighbors close enough to be within hearing distance. I'd given him a good head start. He was almost to the tree line when I said, "Alex, you can move faster than you think. Follow me." 

With that, I'd moved so fast, my body became a blur and shot across the two acres to the gasping old man that was still trying to run but had no breath for it. His lungs were shot. 

To him, it must have seemed as though I materialized out of thin air when I appeared in front of him. He screamed as his momentum carried him forward and he crashed into the solid wall of my chest and went down in a heap. A mere five seconds later, Alex appeared, smiling like a kid with a new toy. He had discovered his enhanced speed from the little blood I had poured into his body from my mouth and penis last night. It would only get better. 

He grinned and said, "I'm not even breathing hard." 

I smiled and wrenched the pitiful wretch at my feet into a standing position. I was craving the blood, as I said. This wasn't as euphoric as the blood lust, but there was an incredible pleasure to be found in the blood kill as well. 

His eyes were wide as I smiled at him, showing him my fangs. He screamed and I laughed, my loud baritone echoing over the empty acres. Alex's eyes widened but he did not flinch when I sank my fangs into Spender's neck. He was so diseased his skin was like crepe paper to my fangs and I sank deeply, holding his jugular with my bottom teeth. I began to pull as he screamed, then whimpered, then merely cried. His entire life flashed before my eyes, as it often did in these moments. I almost felt sorry for him. He'd been a pawn himself to one person or other his whole life, always chasing power for himself and never quite achieving it. He just wasn't smart enough and didn't have the soul for it. But always so self-centered and selfish. 

Ironically, what he considered the best time of his life was his brief affair with Teena Mulder. But alas, I knew what he didn't. He was shooting blanks. He'd been sterile his whole life, a side effect of over exposure to radiation as a child when he lived in Roswell near the nuclear testing sites. 

Bill Mulder was rather spineless when it came down to it, and Spender was vindictive. They both thought they had pulled the wool over each other's eyes by each having an affair with the other's wife. In truth, they did fool each other. But I knew the truth. A victim's chemistry and health conditions are apparent to me as soon as I taste their blood. 

I'd pricked him once with a hidden shirt pin in my suit coat sleeve. He'd jumped and I'd apologized, pulling the pin from my sleeve. I'd explained that it was a new shirt and I must have missed a pin when removing it from the package. I wiped his hand with a Post It note from my desk, then handing him a tissue. He'd left and the small drop of blood sat on top of the Post It note unabsorbed. I'd licked it off and known from that small drop all I needed to know about Spender's ability to sire a child. 

It puts a whole new spin on the believed history of the Mulder family, doesn't it? 

Anyway, I continued to pull his blood over my tongue and down my throat, shivering in delight as it warmed my body and swelled formerly dry cells with new life. His mouth hung open now and his heart was slowing. I let him sag to the ground and sat next to him with his throat locked in my mouth, one arm around his bony shoulders to hold him in place. I stuck out my wrist beyond his shoulder and slashed it open with my finger nail. 

I sent words into Alex's mind. _Drink from me, lover._

Alex sank to his knees on the other side of Spender and put his lips to my wrist. _Pull the wound open with your fingers._

His thumbs came down on my wrist and pulled the slit open. I was healing already. He began to suckle and release, pulling my blood into his mouth as I replenished it from Spender's body. I had plenty to spare now, having taken his the night before and all six quarts of Spender's blood now. 

Did you know that in one day, blood travels approximately 12,000 miles as it tours the body? The human heart beats an average of 35 million times a year? Amazing instrument, the heart. But alas, Spender's has stopped. I take one last pull and release my fangs, licking his neck wounds and watching them close over. I throw him to the side and spread my thighs, resting my butt on my heels and pulling Alex into my arms, wrapping my arm around his neck and pushing my slit wrist back in front of his mouth. 

I hold him like a baby as he sucks the blood from my wrist. His eyes are slightly glazed and he is almost in a trance. The blood is making him shudder, as his body tries to assimilate the new chemistry. He's had enough. 

He looks dazed and I pull my wrist away from him, his mouth following the wound. I stop his head with my free hand and turn him toward me. We kiss and I taste my blood on his tongue. We both tremble at the electric pleasure shocks that scamper up and down our spines. 

I give him a few moments to recover and then tell him that we need to leave. He shakes his head to reorient himself in reality. "What about the body?" he asks. 

"We're going to dump it." 

"In the river?" he asks. 

I smile. "Oh no, we're going to leave it where it will be found." 

"Where's that?" 

"A little place I own in Kent, Connecticut." 

He smiles. "Transport?" 

I grin at him as I prepare to give him another life altering experience. "Dear Alex. We are going to fly." 

His brow scrunches. "You have a private charter plane or something?" he asks. 

I shake my head. "No, you misunderstand." I stand and throw Spender easily over my shoulder. "Follow me." 

We enter the house and I lay Spender on the couch. I take Alex to the bedroom and dress him in long underwear, turtleneck, and a heavy Icelandic sweater, sweat pants, and large jeans over those. He is bundled like the Michelin Man but he can still move easily, my clothes very large on him. 

Without question, he follows me back downstairs. I pick Spender up again and throw him over my shoulder. He weighs barely over 120 pounds now with no blood. 

We walk out back and I stride across the lawn, crossing the two acres to reach the tree line. I wrap an arm tightly over Spender's legs. The other arm invites Alex into my embrace. He steps forward eagerly. 

"Put your arms around my waist." He does, clasping me below Spender's thighs. "Put your feet on top of my boots." 

He does, his feet turning outwards. I smile down at him. "Hang on tight," I give as a final warning and clasp him tightly to me with one arm. 

I look up, gauging the position of the moon, so I don't fly where it will illuminate me on take off. Once up, I will be moving so fast, no one would see me anyway, beyond a flash of clothing. 

I lift into the air slowly and Alex gasps. I smile to reassure him. "Hold on tight. We are going to move fast." 

He clasps me tightly and buries his head in my shoulder. I let go of my restraint and rise straight up into the air until we are about at 500 feet above the tree tops. His lungs won't handle any higher yet. He hasn't changed enough. The air thins, which doesn't affect me, but I don't want him struggling for breath. 

The wind against our bodies is fierce as I race toward my destination, hence the reason for his warm clothing. I know he is scared, but my brave little soldier never utters a protest or a whimper as we fly through the night. The night is young and I knew we have plenty of time to get there and back before dawn. 

Upon arrival, I touch down in front of the farmhouse. As I release Alex, he staggers a bit to catch his balance but recovers admirably and smiles at me the toothiest smile, like a boy who just got off his first roller coaster ride. "That was fabulous!" he whispers in awe. 

I smile at him. The adrenaline junkie is making an appearance. "You will not be able to do it for many years, but I will be able to take you with me." 

"When did you gain that ability?" 

"When I was about 500 years old." 

He frowns. "That's a long wait," he says with resignation. 

I laugh at the earnest expression on his face. I can't help it. "Don't worry, dear heart. We'll have eternity." 

He smiles at that and I trudge to the house, pulling the keys from my trouser pocket and unlock the door deftly with one hand. The house is old, but it has been completely restored. I enter and take Spender upstairs to one of the three guest bedrooms and lay him out on the mattress with his hands over his chest as if he lies in state. The flight has nearly frozen him stiff and I have to unbend his legs and be careful not to snap them. Once that is accomplished, I return downstairs and find Alex pulling sheets off the furniture. 

He turns with an armload of sheets and whistles softly. "There has got to be thousands of dollars of antiques in here." 

"There is." 

His eyes travel over the Louis XIV love seat with the lion heads on the end of the armrests, Victorian couch and French coffee table, the English antique hutch along one wall. His eyes travel over the walls and he whistles again in appreciation. 

"These paintings ... are they ...?" 

"Yes, they are originals." 

"Monet, Rembrandt, Botticelli ... my God. There's a fortune in artwork in this one room." 

I smile. "I can show you around and let you warm up, but we can't linger. We have to go back to D.C. We still have one to get rid of." 

He starts and looks at me. "Who else? I thought it was just Spender." 

"No, Kersh has to go, too." 

"Isn't it dangerous to take them both in one night?" 

"He is just going to disappear. By the time they find him, there won't be enough of him left to know he was exsanguinated." 

He swallows. "If you're sure." 

"Is there a problem I don't know about?" 

He shakes his head vigorously. "No. I just don't see how you're going to do it, cover it up, but ... I trust you completely. You know that. Whatever you think is best." 

I motion to him to come to me and he does. I enfold him in my arms and we kiss softly for long minutes. He is turning into such a delight. I realize I really care for him and wonder why I'm afraid to let him know that. Aren't I criticizing Mulder and Scully for withholding this very type of information? 

Somehow I can't give him the whole bone yet, though. But I whisper in his ear. "I'm falling in love with you, Alex." 

He shivers in my grasp and his lips suckle my throat. I groan and let him feel my arousal. I could stop it but I don't want to. He moans and then says, "You know I love you. I'd do anything for you." 

"I know, pet. We don't have much time though." 

"Let me give you pleasure." 

I look deeply into his eyes and am thrilled to find out that really is all he wants. He intends to ignore his own excitement over my words, his own throbbing cock between his legs, and give me pleasure. Giving me pleasure, gives him pleasure. I feel warm and flush with all the blood I've imbibed and decide we have time for a quickie. 

**XXXXXXXXXX**  
**THIS PORTION NC-17**

I unzip my trousers and pull down my pants and boxers, letting them pool around my ankles. I lean my ass on the back of one of the couches to lower my height. He falls to his knees in front of me like a supplicant and takes my cock with both his hands. He licks the tip and I moan, "Yes, lover, suck me off." 

His warm, hot mouth surrounds the bulbous head of my cock. He can't take all of me, but is soon taking a good six inches into his mouth. I don't hold back, not wanting this to last long. He sucks fiercely, hollowing his cheeks with suction as his head bobs up and down on my rigid sex, his mouth stretched wide. It reminds me of his stretched ass and I feel a mighty throb in my shaft and begin to spray the back of his throat with cum. 

It is bloody and he swallows it like it's the best thing he's ever tasted, humming. The vibrations wash over me and I empty my balls, filling his mouth three times as he swallows and takes all I have to give. 

I sigh in relief and try to remember the last time I was this content. I can't remember. I quickly pull up my pants and fasten them. 

**XXXXXXXXXX END NC-17 PORTION**

I look up at him and he's standing with his arms around his ribs, hugging himself. "Are you all right?" 

"I'm good." 

"What's going on, Alex? You can tell me." 

"I feel strange." 

"Strange how? Can you be more specific?" 

"I keep having hot flashes. My gums ache. My skin feels ... stretched over my muscles. My arm ... aches really bad." 

I smile. "It has begun, Alex." 

His eyes widen. "What exactly?" 

"The change. The hot flashes are your body assimilating my blood. That's where your preternatural abilities will come from. Already you have experienced the increased speed. It will grown even more. Your strength will grow." 

I walk toward him slowly and run my hands down his arms. I kiss one cheek and then the other. "You will grow taller, that's why your skin feel stretched. Your arm ... is beginning to grow, Alex." 

He blinks back tears, partially from pain, partially from joy at this news. "Your gums," I continue. "Well, you can guess why they ache." 

He swallows heavily and nods his head. Softly he says, "I'm growing fangs, aren't I?" 

"Yes, but don't worry. As you know, once grown, they retract easily. No one sees them or knows they are there unless you let them see them." He nods again and sighs, reassured. "I'm sorry you're in pain, Alex. But it must happen this way." 

"I know. I knew there would be some pain. You said there would be. I just ... didn't really know what kind of pain it would be. You know? I didn't know what to expect." 

I hug him gently to me. "This is one pain I can't take away, Alex. I can soothe your human pain, but this process is what it is. More of my blood will speed the process and ease the pain. But it won't take it completely away." 

"I understand. I want it. I will endure it. You don't need to worry about me." 

"I know, but you may need a lot of rest in the next couple of weeks. Don't hesitate to tell me if you are tired or worn out. I won't be upset and I will understand. Besides, I'll worry a bit whether you want me to or not." 

He is silent for a few moments and then says, "I like hearing you in my head." 

I chuckle softly then. "It's very intimate, yes?" I say quietly, purring in his ear. 

He shrugs against the shiver of my breath on his neck. "Yeah, I like it. Will I be able to talk to you like that?" 

"Yes." 

"Do I have to wait 500 years for that too?" he asks innocently. 

I laugh out loud this time, feeling so much affection for him. He shrugs sheepishly. "No, pet. That will come quickly. I'll have to teach you how to shield, though. At first, the noise can be overwhelming until you learn to block it out. I will teach you all these things." 

"I'm looking forward to it." 

"I know. We have to go soon, but I want to help you somehow." 

"You said you couldn't relieve this pain." 

"I can't, but I can make you feel better another way." 

He looks up at me in confusion. 

**XXXXXXXXXXX**  
**THIS PORTION NC-17**

I slowly turn him around and walk him backwards toward the couch. I unfasten all his layers and expose his cock. It springs to life under my touch and he sighs, his arms falling limply to the sofa cushion and his head leaning back into the backrest. 

I kneel before him as he did before me and take him into my mouth. I suck hard and use my tongue to swirl around him as my hands pin his hips to the sofa. He begins to thrust and I let go of his hips, laying my hands palm down on the sofa on either side of his thighs. 

He knows now that he cannot hurt me with his thrusts. He bucks his ass up off the couch repeatedly, sending his swollen shaft down my throat. In a short time, he ejaculates into my mouth. I am pleased to taste blood mixed in with his own bouquet. The change has definitely begun for my crown prince. 

**XXXXXXXXXXX END NC-17 PORTION** ****

* * *

PART 6 (PG-13)

**HOOVER BUILDING**  
**THIRD FLOOR**  
**D.D.KENDALL FAIR'S OFFICE**  
**THE FOLLOWING MONDAY - 4:00 PM**

"Enter," I respond to the knock on my door. 

Agents Mulder and Scully enter. I inhale their scents. Ah, she is wearing Mulder's favorite perfume, Via Preve, a French concoction of natural ingredients from Yves Roche. I love most of the scents they sell. 

I wonder if Mulder notices this little signal from her. I search his thoughts as I wave them to the leather couch in front of my desk. Mulder flops down, not ungracefully, but sinks into the plush leather. Agent Scully sits on the edge so as to prevent her skirt from riding up her thighs. Pity. 

I smile as I see Mulder's nostrils flare when she sits down. His brain nearly screams, 'She's going to drive me crazy with that perfume.' 

That's the idea, you dope. I call him names, but it's all meant affectionately, you understand. "Ready to go?" I ask to start the conversation. 

Agent Scully answers. "Yes, Sir." 

"Give me a run down." 

"Well, Sir, we found out the house comes furnished so that turned out not to be an issue." 

"That's good." 

"Yes, the owner, a Garrett Viking, agreed to let us rent the house through his real estate agent, so we didn't end up needing to go through the complicated paperwork of a fake purchase." 

"That's good news. Saved a lot of time too, I'd imagine," I respond casually. 

"Yes. Well, we will be undercover as Mr. and Mrs. Montagne. I'll have a temporary job as a part time emergency room doctor at New Milford Hospital. I'll use my first name, but he'll use William as his first name." 

"That's your middle name, right?" 

"Yeah, my first name's too easy to look up. How many people have the name Fox?" he asks sardonically. 

I smile. "Oh, I don't know, the Schaghticaoke Indians might take you in as one of their own." 

He chuckles good naturedly and Dana smiles at him. "We're leaving tomorrow morning, if that's all right with you. Mulder will present himself as psychologist and claim to be writing a book." 

"So he can explain staying home most of the time," I clarify. 

"Exactly. I'll only be working for six hours a day, three days a week. But that will give me access to the hospital facilities for any forensic work I might need to do." 

"Sounds like you have it all worked out. I assume there are adequate sleeping arrangements to suit you?" I ask, tweaking them to see what they will say. 

Mulder smiles slowly and lazily and waggles his eyebrows at Scully. She gives him the death glare and is mortified that he is joking in front of a superior. 

Her skin color rises and I watch the blood bloom on her cheeks. "Sir! There are four bedrooms. That won't be an issue." 

I chuckle softly. "I'm not worried about that anyway, Agent." 

"What do you mean, Sir?" 

"I mean that agents fraternizing is not something that I concern myself with. As long as my agents do their jobs, I don't care what they do on their off time. You are supposed to be a married couple, so you may need to play the part. It won't be held against you." 

She blushes more fiercely and Mulder smiles but holds back his innuendo in front of me. He sits forward. "We've been undercover before, Sir." 

"We don't ... fraternize!" Scully adds. 

I've managed to fluster the unflappable Agent Scully. This tells me that it's an issue and on her mind. I probe her gently and find her struggling to control her blush and cursing her Irish skin. "I know. I only meant that I wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable." 

"No, Sir," Agent Scully answered. "We'll be fine." 

"Good. Well, everything seems in order. Good luck, Agents." 

"Thank you, Sir," Mulder says respectfully. "We really appreciate your support." 

"No problem. Take your time, of course, but I'll want weekly reports either faxed or e-mailed to me on your progress." 

Agent Scully meets my gaze again. "No problem, Sir. I'll make sure you get weekly reports." 

Very casually, I say, "Agent Scully, you can relax, I'm not going to bite you." I laugh silently at my inside joke. 

She nods self-consciously. "I know, Sir. I just ..." 

"Relax, Agent. Have fun with your assignment." 

"Fun, Sir?" 

"It's work, but it doesn't have to be all struggle and effort, Agent Scully. You're allowed to have fun, you know." 

Mulder smiles widely. "I'm always telling her the same thing. All work and no play makes Scully a dull agent." 

"Mulder!" 

I smile broadly at them. "You're a great team. But nobody can be on duty 24/7. Remember to take down time too. You're good agents. I don't want you burning out. Besides, you are supposed to be married. It would look strange if you never left the house and never went anywhere together. I expect you to go out to dinner in the nearest restaurants and buy things in the local stores. I have every confidence in you. See if you can figure this one out, will you?" 

They rise and say in unison, "Yes, Sir." 

I stand and come around my desk. Agent Scully takes a step back, momentarily startled at my size. Mulder obviously didn't warn her. You can tell I'm a big man sitting behind my desk, but the full effect doesn't really hit you until I stand up. 

I hold out my hand. "Nice to finally meet you, Agent Scully." 

She hesitates but then sticks her hand out. Her grip is firm and assured and not intimidated in the least. I smile at her and she smiles back as I release her hand. "I'll look forward to reading your reports." 

"Have a good day, Sir." 

"Oh, I will. You too, Agents." 

They leave and the door clicks behind them. This could turn out to be a lot of fun, I'm thinking. 

**XXXXXXXXXX**

I buzz Kelli and tell her to hold my calls for an hour or so. I tune into my agents as they retreat to their office and pack up their laptops and the various items they need to take with them to Connecticut. 

"So, what did you think, Scully?" 

"Big guy, literally and figuratively," she mutters. 

Mulder laughs and so do I, quietly. "Yeah, he's a big man, but he seems nice, doesn't he?" 

"Yes." I hear the hesitation in her voice. 

"What's wrong?" 

"I don't know yet. Something about him bothers me." 

"Probably his size. I know how you hate it when I tower over you. Christ, the man towers over me!" 

"No, that's not it. I've been short my whole life, Mulder. I got used to being towered over a long time ago. That doesn't intimidate me." 

"Then what's the problem?" 

"Didn't this all seem a little too easy, Mulder?" 

He is silent, wondering if she has a point. His natural paranoia is kicking in. I want to influence him, but I hold back. If I am to get their help later, I must have their trust. This must progress naturally. I remind myself that I am in no hurry. I have Alex to take care of now and he must be my main concern. 

I'll tell them about Kersh when they call to tell me about their discovery upon arrival. Alex will be vulnerable for the next couple of weeks. I have him staying at my townhouse in Georgetown. I've told him not to go out without me under any circumstances. Periodically, I check to make sure he's still there. He is. He has spent most of his time sleeping. 

"You know what, Scully?" he finally answers. 

"What?" 

"I think we are just so used to having to fight for every little morsel around here that we find it hard to believe that anyone could possibly believe in us and genuinely appreciate what we do here. We are so used to being pawns that we assume if someone is nice, they have an ulterior motive." 

"They usually do, Mulder," she replies, her skepticism fully in place. 

"Maybe Fair does. But does that necessarily have to be a bad thing?" 

"Meaning?" 

"Who knows? Maybe he's had some sort of brush with the paranormal, or there is a mystery in his life he wants solved. Maybe he's hoping he can get our help." 

"But first he has to butter us up?" 

"It's a possibility, is all I'm saying. Or maybe he is checking us out before he decides whether we can help him ... or maybe to see if he simply likes us or not. The bottom line is that we just don't know, Scully. And I'm not inclined to look a gift horse in the mouth right now." He sounds sullen and dejected now, upset that she is questioning everything as usual. 

She sighs. "You're right, Mulder. Maybe I'm just overreacting to this." 

"I trust your instincts, Scully. You know that. All I'm saying is ..." 

"There's nothing we can do about it at this point," she finishes for him. 

"Right. I mean, if he has another agenda, we'll find out about it for sure. But until then, what? We can't exactly ask him if he's got an ulterior motive. Gee, sir, are you using us for some nefarious purpose? Or are you buttering us up to get something out of us?" Scully laughs at his mocking, impromptu scenario. It's a glorious sound. He begins to laugh with her. "Like the man said, let's go have some fun." 

"I don't know about fun, Mulder. But our assignments are never dull." 

"Let's go, G-Woman. Your place or mine first?" he teases. 

"Mine. I need to get my stuff from my apartment, then we'll head over to your place. You're closer to the airport." 

"After you, Mrs. Montagne." 

"Don't push it, Mulder." 

They are leaving now and I sit down to do some paperwork, one of the prices I pay for playing a mortal. I sign several documents and read a couple of other case files, attaching notes for the agents' assignments. I call Kelli in. 

She is looking edible in a pink cashmere sweater and wool slacks that hug her tiny derriere. "Kelli, can you call A.D. Skinner and tell him I need to speak with him tomorrow? Then take these folders and pass them on to D.D. Kersh's secretary." 

"Yes, Sir. Will there be anything else?" 

I smile at her. "No, I know it's almost quitting time. Get those files to Debbie and you can go." 

"Thank you, Sir. See you in the morning." She turns and leaves. God, I would love to have her for a night, but I can't risk it. I need her here. I sigh and call Alex at the townhouse. He answers on the third ring. 

"Hello, Fair Residence." 

"Oh, so formal." 

"Gareth," he says my name like it's a relief. 

"How are you, love?" 

"Tired. The soreness is mostly gone. I took some aspirin and believe it or not, it helped." 

"I believe it. I'm glad you're feeling better. Every day it will get a little better." 

"Even though I'm still changing?" 

"Yes, because I'll give you more ... of what you need and it will ease the pain some." 

"Good. I'll look forward to it. Are you coming home soon?" 

"Soon. I have to wait for the sun to go down. Another half hour or so." 

"I'll be waiting. Can I order some dinner delivered?" 

"Sure, just don't leave the house." 

"I won't." 

"Promise?" 

"Promise." 

"There's some money in my top desk drawer in the study. Take it for your food." 

"I have some money." 

"Use mine, Alex." 

"Okay." 

"See you soon." 

"Bye." 

I hang up and sigh. I wished I didn't have to leave him alone but I have no choice. I can't simply take two weeks off right now. It would look strange since they are about to discover that Kersh is missing. I'm feeling warm and satisfied from the blood I've taken this week, first Spender's and then Kersh's. Kersh is at the bottom of the Potomac now, but there won't be much left of him in a week or so. The fish have already begun to feast. If he isn't light enough to surface in a couple of days, I'll bring him up. 

Kelli knocks lightly and sticks her head in the door. "I'm all through, Sir." 

"Thanks, Kelli. See you tomorrow." 

"Can I ask you a personal question?" she asks as she comes into the room. 

"Sure." 

"Where do you live?" 

"I have a townhouse in Georgetown and a house in Falls Church." 

"Wow." 

"Sometimes I don't feel like driving all the way back to Falls Church and battling the Beltway, so I bought a townhouse in Georgetown. I stay there a lot during the week and go home to Falls Church on the weekend. Why?" 

"I was just curious. You keep long hours. Do you ever get to have fun?" 

I smile at her. "What kind of fun do you think I need, Kelli?" I ask in a flirtatious voice. 

She blushes slightly and stutters, "I didn't ... mean it ... mean it that way." 

I chuckle, enjoying her embarrassment. "I know. But seriously, what do you think I need?" 

"I don't think you need anything, Sir. I was just wondering, you know, what you do for fun?" 

"What do you do for fun?" I counter, neatly sidestepping her question. 

"Go to dinner, movies, have drinks with friends. Sometimes go dancing at nightclubs." 

"I stick out like a sore thumb in nightclubs." 

"Why?" she asks innocently. 

I stand up and approach her, stopping about a foot away. She cranes her neck back to look at me. "Because I'm easily a head taller than most people. I crash into the strobe lights on the ceiling." 

She giggled. "I guess I see your point. Oh! But there's the Warehouse!" I was kidding about hitting the lights, but apparently she isn't too bright sometimes. 

"The Warehouse?" 

"It's a fairly new nightclub in Baltimore. It's converted from an old Warehouse. The ceilings are like ... twenty feet high in that place." 

"I'm appreciate the thought, Kelli, but I'm a prime example of the expression, 'white men can't dance'." 

She giggles again. "I'll bet you'd do fine if you had the room," she countered. 

"I think I'll pass," I say gently. 

She frowns, clearly disappointed. I probe her mind gently. I usually refrain from invading her this way, maybe because I wanted to keep her separate from the rest of the intrigues in my life. I don't want to taint her life. She is looking at the carpet, but she is thinking, 'I should just go home. I've made enough of an ass of myself. He doesn't even know I'm flirting with him. He probably thinks I'm a total dork.' 

"I'm not much of a dancer, but I might be convinced to go out to dinner." 

"You would?" 

"Sure, if I had the right dinner companion." 

She swallows, screwing up her courage. "And who would that be, Sir?" 

"How about you, Kelli? Would like to go out to dinner sometime?" 

"Yes!" she nearly shouts, but pulls back at the last minute. I smile at her and she blushes. 

I lean down close to her face. "This week is pretty booked for me, but maybe Friday? Can you wait that long for me to get a social life?" 

She laughs again, smiling widely. "Sure. Friday it is. After work?" 

"Sounds good. We should keep this to ourselves, though." I touch her shoulder and squeeze gently. 

"I understand." She trembles under my hand. 

"I'm new here. I don't need to be brought up on sexual harassment charges before my first year is out." 

She smiles again. "No worries there, Sir." Her tone is breathy. Just the word 'sexual' made her flush. 

"Glad to hear it, Kelli. I'll see you tomorrow, O.K.?" 

"Right. Good night, Sir." 

I run a finger along her jaw and then let it slip away. Good lord. I can smell her. She's aroused. "Good night, Kelli." 

She leaves and it's my turn to sigh. Why did I do that? I have to think of Alex. I'm over 3,500 years old and I can still give into impulse. It's rather sad, really. I was alone for so long and now what? I start bringing Alex to me and suddenly I need to lust after every mortal that flirts with me? What the hell? 

Oh well. What's done is done. I can always wipe out her memory of it, if it goes bad. I don't like to do that, though. But I do what I have to do. But God, she is hot. That's one thing I like about the 21st century. The women show a lot more skin than they did in the old days! ****

* * *

PART 7 (NC-17)

**KENDALL FAIR'S TOWNHOUSE**  
**GEORGETOWN, D.C.**  
**LATER THAT EVENING - 6:30 PM**

I enter and close the door behind me. He emerges from the hallway, walking slowly. I observe his jaw muscle clenching and releasing, his hands forming fists and uncurling with effort. "How are you, Pet?" 

He swallows and admits quietly, "The pain is bad." 

"I'm sorry I left you alone so long, but I couldn't help it." 

"I know." He hesitates, blinking rapidly, trying to hold back his tears. His is trying to be stoic and endure. He doesn't want me to know he is having trouble handling the pain. But with the pain, comes a lowering of his barriers. Without even reading his mind, I can see the lines of pain etched on his face. They show in the small lines around his eyes, the narrowing of his lips that are growing pale. "Can you help me?" he asks, clearly embarrassed that he has broken down to the point where he needs to ask for my help. 

I step into him and smooth his hair with my hands and cradle his head. "Come, little one," I murmur, having sensed his distress from the street as I exited my car. "I will help you." 

I pick him up gently and easily in a baby carry and bring him into the bedroom. He tries to squirm for a moment, wanting to maintain his dignity but the pain is too bad and he finally gives up, collapsing against my body. I can see that he has spent most of the day on the couch in front of the TV. An empty small pizza box, a Coke can, and a bottle of aspirin lay on the coffee table. The afghan is balled up on one end. I will clean that up later. 

I stand him next to the bed and gently undress him. He is pale, but I see him gritting his teeth against the pain, once again, trying not to show me that he is scared. "It's O.K. to let it out," I whisper. "I know the pain is bad." 

"Ah, God, Gareth. I'm sorry. I don't mean to be so needy." 

"It's all right." 

"I know you just walked in the door. You didn't even get to sit down." 

"Shhh, you've been waiting for hours. I wish I hadn't had to leave you." 

"It's all right. I know you needed to go." He grits his teeth again and I feel the muscles of his back spasm. "Ahhhh," he begins to moan and willfully cuts it off again. "Sorry," he mutters again. 

"No need to apologize, Alex. I understand." It has been so many centuries ago that I don't remember the pain in vivid detail, but it is coming back to me. The death of my mortal body took a week and a half and I was often curled into a ball moaning. 

"I don't like feeling this weak!" he cried out. "I'm used to feeling strong and healthy!" 

"I know love. I'll help you as best I can. Let it go if you need to." I cupped his face. "I won't think less of you, Alex. You're safe here with me." My maker had been slightly cruel and was stingy with his blood, making me suffer unnecessarily. I learned later from Zebrosia that it hadn't had to be that way. I didn't intend to make Alex suffer the way I did, or any more than he had to. "I understand the fear." 

"I hurt too much to fear it," he moans. Once stripped, I pick him up gently and place him in the center of the bed. 

"Should I roll over so you can take me?" 

"No, pretty one. I won't take you right now." 

"Why not?" he cries, thinking this is how I will take the pain away. 

"That would cause more pain right now. Maybe later. Shush now, lie back and relax." 

He goes boneless on the mattress and I lay down beside him, sliding an arm under her neck and letting his head rest on a pillow. I am on my side. "Time to do some sharing, Alex." 

He sniffles. "Just please help me," he said softly. "Shit," he mutters, embarrassed. I hate seeing him in this much pain. I know how strong he is. For him to be reduced to whimpering, the pain must be incredible. I curse myself again for leaving him alone this long. Maybe I will take at least one day off. 

His eyes are glued to me as I bring my free left wrist to my mouth. I open my mouth, letting him watch as my fangs extend. I bite deeply into my wrist and he gasps, wondering how that possibly could be painless for me. I pull back as I pull my fangs out, slashing two deep furrows in my veins. I tip my wrist to his lips, and remember him saying he liked hearing my voice in his head. He needs my comfort now. So I speak to him in that way that makes him feel intimate with me. 

_Drink, my love. But drink slowly._

He opens his mouth and I can see his swollen gums. He has tiny fangs. He is hesitating, perhaps feeling them there. 

_Yes, curl your lip and push them out._

His lip curls and I see his canines extend into baby fangs just barely longer than his regular teeth, but the sharp points are showing. _Drink, Alex._

I press my wrist to his mouth and his tiny fangs sink into the open wound. He doesn't need to hold it open this time. Even his tiny fangs are enough to keep the hole open in my vein. He sips and swallows, sips and swallows. He is doing as he is told and taking small amounts, drinking slowly. 

He shivers and hums against my wrist. I rock him gently as he suckles like a baby. I probe his mind gently. He still aches all over, all his joints in agony from stretching, but the pain is subsiding slightly. I decide that even if it means I will be weaker for a day or two, I will give him all I can. He sips for a long time, his eyes finally closing in exhaustion. 

*That's enough for now, love. Retract your fangs, just bring your top lip down and put pressure on them with your bottom lip. Gently, now.* 

He is very good at taking instruction and that will save him many a mishap. I can't say the same for myself. I'd had many minor disasters caused by my rushing out without proper instruction. Then again, my maker, Hotep, hadn't been the kindest Master. He had been an Egyptian Priest, a Holy man that held sway over his congregation because of his seeming 'gifts from God'. He had been such a huckster. He thought to make me his slave and then groom me to take his place, as he was tired of the sermons and wanted to retreat from civilization. 

I'd ruined his plans when I escaped his grasp and fled to Scotland. He'd marched out into the desert, laid down and waited for the sun to rise. He'd burned to a crisp. I'd felt his death like a physical blow and had sped back to Egypt to make sure it had really happened. I hadn't been old enough yet to trust my instincts and I'd had no teacher in the real sense. I'd found a black smudge in the desert outside a small cave of rock that thrust up out of the sand. It was all that was left of my master. I scooped up his ashes, mixed them with water and drank them. Surprisingly, even his ashes had given me strength. 

All this ruminating was not going to help Alex now, though, except to remind me not to abandon him as my master had abandoned me. I'd run away, to be sure, but because of his cruelty and his desire to enslave me. That was a form of abandonment too. Once, I had trusted him. 

Alex falls into a deep slumber and I merely hold him while he sleeps. After a while, I rise and clean up the living room. I go back in the bedroom and strip naked. I lift Alex and slide him under the covers with me, spooning around him. He mutters and snuggles deeper into my body. 

I feel a swelling sensation in my chest and realized it is akin to the love a mother feels for a child. He is truly becoming my child and I swear to protect him and teach him well so that he may survive the centuries to come with me. I fall into fitful sleep myself. I rise at 5:00 AM. 

I did not shower last night and although I don't sweat or stink in the normal sense, dust and dirt will adhere to my skin sometimes. Besides, I just enjoy the warmth of the shower sometimes for the pure sensation of it. I get in and rinse off, running soap over my body, not to cover a smell but to give me one. 

I get out fifteen minutes later and comb the long hair that is hanging down to my waist now. Once the tangles are out, I pull it back into a queue. They have the greatest coated elastics these days, much easier than those lousy leather thongs I used to have to use to hold my hair back. They loosened and fell out half the time. 

I smile in the mirror and turn, enjoying the feel of my long pony tail down my back. I am not going to cut it today. 

I go to the living room and pick up the phone, dialing work and Kelli's extension. Her voice mail answers, prompting me to leave a message. 

"Kelli, it's Kendall. I'm afraid something personal came up and I'm not going to be able to come in today. Please reschedule my appointment with A.D. Skinner for tomorrow morning, whenever is convenient for him. Could you also call me on my cellular if Agents Mulder or Scully call in. Better yet, just give them my phone number. I should be in tomorrow. Don't hesitate to call if there's an emergency. I'll talk to you later. Thanks, Kelli." 

I hang up and sigh and go back into the kitchen and fix Alex a bowl of chicken soup with Ritz Crackers the way he likes it, salty and with too little water added to this nasty stuff from the can. 

Pretty soon, he won't need to eat, but he isn't there yet. I go into the bedroom and wake him gently. I prop him up on pillows against the headboard and set tray with the soup, crackers and orange juice on his lap. 

He smiles gratefully, blurry eyed and I watch him eat in silence. Eventually he becomes self-conscious. "What?" he mumbles around his mouthful of half swallowed crackers. 

I smile. "You are so beautiful." 

"You always call me that." 

"What would you rather I call you." 

"Handsome. Beautiful is for women." 

"Ahh, my Alex, you are beautiful though to me." 

He smiles again. "I know. You still have some archaic expressions in your vocabulary, you know?" 

I raise my eyebrows in amusement. "You don't say?" 

He shakes his head. "I don't mean anything by it. I find it charming." 

"You find me charming, eh?" 

"Yes, I do. This is still weird for me sometimes." 

"Which part? Becoming a blood drinker? I would think that would be strange for most people." 

He laughs now. "No, actually I was referring to ... " He stops and licks his lips, his eyes wandering down my naked torso. Finally he continues, "This lust I feel for you." 

"Why is that weird?" 

"I was never gay." 

I smile indulgently at him. "Those are modern terms slapped on people by a society with a closed mind and a need to label people, pushing them into categories." 

"Go on," he encourages as he begins to spoon up more soup and then drink deeply from the glass of orange juice. 

"I mean that sexuality is sexuality. I mean, we all have our preferences, I suppose, but I think given the right situation, we are all a bit bisexual, don't you think?" 

"There are people who wouldn't even consider it, on both sides of the fence." 

"That's because they were taught that it was wrong, instead of following their own experience. And they've never been in the correct situation of feeling an overwhelming love for someone, regardless of gender. They won't allow themselves to feel it. If they get a glimpse, they run the other way." 

"Have you always been bisexual?" 

"I think so. I mean, in the early days as a mortal I was exclusively heterosexual, but later on, during the Renaissance and the Roman bath houses, and the Roman orgies, I learned the delights of male flesh. I've enjoyed both. Still do. Gender isn't important. Caring and love is important, Alex." 

"I know that. It will just take me a little more time to adjust completely, that's all." 

"There's nothing that says you can't still enjoy a woman if you want one." 

He swallows and licks his lips again, setting the tray aside. I pick it up and set it on the floor. "You'd let me do that?" he asks. 

"Of course. I know you love me. You belong to me, but I don't own you, Alex. I don't have time for that kind of petty jealousy." 

"You don't believe in monogamy?" 

"If that's the arrangement you want and have, yes. If you want a more open relationship and are up front about that, I don't see anything wrong with either situation. It's a matter of preference. I guess I've lived too long to worry about it much anymore. I go where my heart takes me, Alex." 

"Meaning?" 

"Meaning, I didn't pluck you out of thin air." 

"Pluck me?" he teases my choice of words. 

I lay down on my back and pull him up over my torso. He sprawls over me like a warm blanket and I notice he isn't complaining about pain. He isn't wearing his prosthesis either and I look at his arm reaching toward the bed and ending just below the elbow. It is definitely longer than it was a four days ago. He looks too and says, "My prosthesis won't fit anymore." 

"Do you want me to get you an adjustable one?" 

"No, not unless I have to go out somewhere." 

"You shouldn't. I'll try to keep you here until it's grown completely out. Then you will be good as new." 

"I still can't believe it," he says, the tears of gratitude in his eyes again. 

"I'm glad that it will make you whole again, Alex." 

"More importantly, it will make me FEEL whole again." 

"You are whole, Alex, in every way that counts, arm or no arm." 

He presses a kiss to my breastbone, closing his eyes. I respond by kissing the top of his head. "I'm grateful," he says softly. 

"Don't thank me yet. It's not all wine and roses. There are many sacrifices as well." 

"I know. You've explained it all to me. I appreciate your honesty. You've been more than candid about the disadvantages. I know you could have lied to me to seduce me and I wouldn't have known the difference. I want you to know I recognize that and appreciate it." 

"You had to be willing and have all the facts, Alex. Willing and hoodwinked isn't the same thing." His lips smile against my chest and he turns his head to the side, using my pectoral as a pillow. "I wanted to know that you would stay after the change. If I was dishonest, you would just feel betrayed and leave me. There would be nothing I could do to stop you, really." 

"I won't leave you." 

"I know you won't. I pride myself on not making the same mistake twice." 

"Someone left you?" he asks incredulously, like this is the most amazing thing he's ever heard. 

"Yes. I took her for granted, and I treated her badly. Then I paid the price when she told me she wanted nothing to do with me and left. I've searched for her but have been unable to find her. I have no idea if she even lives among mortals." 

"That's sad. Maybe one day you'll find her." 

"Perhaps. I may enlist the help of our two favorite agents." 

"Mulder and Scully?" 

"Who else?" 

"You're going to let them know what you are?" 

"I don't think so. I just want to set up the hunt and see if they find her. They don't have to approach or talk to her, just locate her. I could do the rest." 

"What would you do if you found her?" 

"I would tell her I'm sorry. I would tell her I still love her and want her to travel with me through time. She may be dead though." 

He sniffles, thinking. I don't probe and let this information sink in. Finally he asks, "Could I lose you to her?" 

"No, Pet. It's not an either/or situation. That's what you humans do. We creatures of the night, well, there are few of us. I don't think we can afford to turn another away. I've no idea if she can ever forgive me anyway. But if she did, I see no reason why we couldn't all cohabit." 

"A menage a trois?" 

I chuckle. "It could happen. Never fear, Alex. I may still love her, but that has nothing to do with my love for you. My love for you is just as strong." 

He squeezes me in response and I sigh. "I love you, Gareth," he said softly, barely audible. 

I let my affection for him steal over me. I'd already admitted it, so what was the big deal? "I love you too, Alex. Don't doubt that." 

He hiccups and raises his head to kiss my neck. "That's the first time you've said it," he declares quietly. 

His hot, wet tongue laves the column of muscle up my neck and I tingle from head to toe. He rubs himself against me. I want him so badly. I'd held off for two days now despite my declaration of that first night that I would take him every night. I'd been too afraid of hurting him and not sure how mortal he still was. 

Now though, I feel the lust rise up in me again. "How's the pain, Alex?" 

"Not bad this morning. It generally increases as the day goes on." 

"Can you take me? I want you very much." 

He rises up on his knees and kisses me. I kiss him hungrily and don't need to will myself erect, because I'm already there. "Just like this," I growl. 

**XXXXXXXXXXX**  
**THIS PORTION NC-17**

He pushes up and braces on my chest with one arm. I reach over to the nightstand and pull out some anal lubrication. I don't want to fool around with my saliva and I don't want to wait long. "Lube me and yourself well." 

He does, smearing it up into his ass and gliding it over my shaft. He tosses the tube aside when done. I grasp his waist and lift him up. He holds my cock straight up and positions himself. 

I raise my knees and form a backrest for him. He slowly sinks down on me. I have risen to just above eight inches, not having had time yet to grow. This is like our lovemaking of the last months before the change began. 

He groans and wiggles and bounces until he has me fully embedded between his sweet ass cheeks. Then he leans back against my legs. I gently pull his knees up and straighten his legs, placing them in my armpits. _Use your legs for leverage Alex._

He experiments in pushing himself up using his legs braced against my armpits. He moans and sinks back down. "Oh, God, that's good!" he cries. 

I hold him steady around the waist as he reaches back with his good arm and grasps my thigh. He begins pushing with his legs and raising himself up and down my shaft. We both moan as his speed gradually increases, until he is bucking like a bitch in heat, wailing. I watch his erect cock bounce on his stomach with every thrust. 

I remove one hand from his waist and wrap it around his pulsing shaft. I stroke him in time with his thrusts up and down my shaft. That's all it takes and we are both coming, crying out each other's names. We deflate and lay against each other. He is exhausted again. I can see it in his face. "Sleep again, Alex." 

**XXXXXXXXXX END OF NC-17 PORTION**

He glances at the clock. "Oh my God! You're late for work! How are you going to get in? The sun is up!" 

"Easy. I called in today." 

"What?" 

"You heard me. I called in." 

"Why?" 

"I wanted to spend the day with you." 

He is silent for a few long moments and then says, "You mean you want to take care of me." 

"Both." 

"I don't need you take care of me ..." he trails off, looking chagrined, remembering his behavior of the day before. "I'm sorry." 

"Don't be sorry, Alex. There is nothing to be ashamed of. Relax. I took the day off because I wanted to. I don't want you to suffer like I did. And you worried me last night. I had no idea what kind of shape you would be in this morning." 

"I'm better." 

"Now. But what about later?" 

He is silent, having no good answer for me. We both know it will get bad again before the day is out. I hope I can detect it early and give him the blood sooner, thus helping before the pain became severe. 

"I don't know why I'm complaining. I'm glad you're here. I missed you all day yesterday. I thought I was going to die." 

He is dying, but I elect not to point that out to him. I know what he means. He means take a dirt nap. "I'm here now, and I want to be here. I care about you, Alex and I want to make this as easy for you as I can. So sue me." 

He miles and flops down onto the mattress, rolling onto his side. "What do we do now?" he asks. 

"Why don't we get dressed and I'll start with some of your lessons. There will be a lot of things you need to know." 

"Sounds good." ****

* * *

PART 8 (PG-13)

**OLD FARMHOUSE**  
**BULL'S BRIDGE ROAD**  
**KENT, CT**

I leave Alex sleeping and write him a note that I am going to Kent, but would return before dawn. I make the trip quickly with no cargo and land lightly on the property, blending into the shadows. 

"AAAAHHHH, SSCCUULLYY!" I hear Mulder yell as I stand on the edges of the property just into the tree line. 

The sound of Scully's running feet across the floor and up the stair case thumps in my ears. "What's the matter?" she shouts, as she mounts the stairs. 

Her footsteps come to a halt. She whispers, "Oh shit." I assume they are both standing in the guest bedroom now, looking at the present I've left for them. I can picture her diminutive frame approaching the bed, checking for a pulse even though she would recognize the pallor of death right away. My acute sense of smell tells me that Spender had recently thawed out and therefore, although rigor mortis is setting in, decomposition is minimal. It is still internal and there is no smell, at least not to them. 

"Something's very wrong here, Mulder." 

"Yeah, he's dead as a door nail." 

"Tsk," she clucks her tongue. "That's not what I mean and you know it," she replies, her tone touched with disgust. 

"Sorry." 

She crosses the room to him. I move behind the trees until I can see into the second story lighted window. They are standing in front of it, back lit by the overhead light in the room and I can see everything perfectly. My eyesight is quite phenomenal as well, far beyond human range and clarity. 

She wraps her arms around his waist and leans into him. His arms come up and enfold her, his chin resting on her head. "No, I'm sorry, Mulder. This is just a shock, finding him here. Whatever I expected to find here, this wasn't it." 

"It's not really a shock to find out someone killed him." 

"We don't know that yet," she hedges. 

"Yes, we do. He didn't lay down for a nap and die. What would he be doing here anyway? No. Someone killed him and left him here for us to find. What I don't know is ... why?" 

"This is going to be a hassle, getting him removed from here." 

"You're right. I have no positive feelings for the man. And frankly, I'm not sorry he's dead. Does that make me a bad person?" It's a rhetorical question and he continues, asking, "Who knows we're here?" 

"D.D. Fair, D.D. Skinner and the owner." 

"Mulder ..." 

"As morbid as it may sound, I'm almost relieved he's dead." 

"Relieved?" 

"He's one less force that can harass us. He was nothing but evil in life, at least in his dealings with you and I. I almost killed him myself one time. I could have ... but I wanted what he knew more than I wanted him dead and so he lived. I've regretted that day on more than one occasion." 

"No, Mulder. You did the right thing. You wouldn't have wanted his blood on your hands." 

"Speaking of which ..." They disengage from their huddle, not having felt anything other than the need to comfort each other. I wonder at that sometimes. 

Mulder is approaching the bed. He leans down and I hear him say to Scully, "Is it my imagination or is he paler than he should be?" 

"He's dead, Mulder. Of course he's pale. We have to call the local cops." 

"It'll take them forever to get here. Let's just phone this into the Bureau and have them fly a local agent out to transport the body back to Quantico. And we're going to have to call Fair." 

"Shit. This is going to be a mess." 

"Scully, he has no blood." Mulder is bending over the corpse and peering at his  
skin. "He's just like the other victims. He's been exsanguinated." 

"That's impossible! He probably bled out before he was moved here." 

"You know it's not, Scully. We've seen it before. Why couldn't he be?" 

"He didn't own this house. It doesn't fit the pattern." 

"True, but that doesn't erase the fact that his skin is almost wax like. I've seen a lot of dead people, Scully. Maybe not as many as you, but plenty. Even I know the texture and color of his skin is unnatural." 

"He's into heavy rigor mortis already." 

"And yet, he isn't decomposing." 

"He must be." 

"Not at the rate you would expect." 

"We don't know how long he's been here." 

"True," he states mildly and pokes the corpse's cheek with a finger. "It's like a frozen turkey." 

"What?" 

"You know when you thaw a turkey and it's not quite thawed yet and you push on the skin and it crunches slightly like crepitus from a bad joint." 

"That's a disgusting thought." 

"I've had more disgusting thoughts." 

"I'm sure. Look, we can't settle in until we get rid of this. There will already be questions. They knew we were arriving today. We could blamed for his death. It would be natural for them to consider us suspects, especially with our history with the man." 

"I'm not worried about that." 

"I am," she sighed. 

"Oh ye of little faith," he teases. 

She sighs loudly. "I'll call the local Bureau. I think there's one in Hartford, but even that's a good hour away by car." 

"They might have a chopper." 

"Maybe." 

"I'll call Fair." 

"What about Skinner?" 

"Fair's in charge of this investigation. He's who we are reporting to on this one and besides ... I'm sure Fair will pass this on to Skinner. 

I listen while they make their respective calls. I wait patiently, holding my cellular phone in my hand as I ease it out of trouser pocket. I know Kelli will tell him I'm gone and give him my number. 

I wait, counting. One, Mississippi, Two, Mississippi, Three, Mississippi. Four. Mississip.... 

My phone trills in my hand and I let it ring twice before picking up. "Kendall Fair," I answer. 

"Deputy Director." 

"Yes." 

"Sir, this is Agent Mulder." 

"Calling to check in so soon?" 

"Uh, no, Sir. We have a serious situation here." 

"What's wrong, Agent? You sound upset." 

"We arrived less than an hour ago and found a dead body in one of the guest rooms upstairs." 

"Another one? Didn't you say these deaths have all been about three years apart?" 

"Yes, sir." 

"Refresh my memory. I thought you said the last one was fairly recent." 

"It was." 

"Do you know who the victim is?" 

"Yes, sir. It's ..." 

"Who, Agent Mulder?" I ask, trying to sound authoritative and slightly annoyed. 

"It's Cancer Man." 

"Cancer Man?" I repeat, pretending bewilderment. 

"C.G.B. Spender." 

I am silent, waiting. 

"You know him, Sir?" 

I send out a small probe and realize he knows I know him from the encounter in the hall last week. He is testing me to see if I will lie. 

"Yes, I do, ... unfortunately," I add. 

I can almost feel him relax on the other end of the line. Of course, I am also watching his posture soften through the lighted window as he paces back and forth. 

"We weren't sure whether to call in the local police or ... Sir?" 

"Yes?" 

"Is that wind or trees or something I hear chirping in the background?" 

"Yes, Agent. I'm outside on my porch." 

"Oh, just curious." 

"You were saying?" 

"We thought we might call the nearest Bureau office rather than involve the local police." 

"Sounds like a good call. I'll arrange to have them come out and retrieve the body. Can you stand being around him another hour or so?" 

"Sure. The locals couldn't get here any faster than that anyway." 

"So do you have a theory, Agent Mulder." 

"I have a bad feeling." 

"How so? Other than the obvious, that there's a dead man in the house." 

"He didn't die here. Someone put him here. I'm not sure if it's a message for us or not." 

"Not many people knew you were going there." 

"Exactly my point." 

"Well, things leak out. Accounting knew, the motor pool knew, ... I'll look into possible leaks on this end." 

"It's possible Spender knew and told whoever killed him, so they brought him here." 

"How would he have known?" I ask. 

"I saw him leaving your office the day I came to ask you about the case." 

"I didn't know about it when he was here, only after he left." 

"He could have listened." 

"With his ear to the door? I don't think so. Someone would have mentioned it to me and chased him away. Kelli is very protective." 

"I didn't mean literally." 

"How do you mean then?" 

"Uh ... Sir, I'd check your office for bugs." 

I feign a stunned moment of silence. "You think ..." 

"He's been known to do that." 

"I'll have that checked right away. This is turning out to be a busy day off." 

"I'm sorry, Sir." 

"No problem. Let me know what you turn up in your investigation." 

Scully speaks up in the background, having finished her call to Quantico. "I want to do the autopsy." 

"Uh, Sir. Scully would like to do the autopsy. That means returning to Quantico." 

"Would she rather use a facility out there?" 

He asks her and she says no. She wants state of the art equipment such as was located at Quantico. Here is a wrinkle I hadn't foreseen. Ah well, you can't think of everything. 

"Well, whatever she thinks is best. I don't like you being out there alone, though." 

"Don't worry about me." 

"Well, let's get this ball rolling and I'll talk to you later after I've made arrangements. Maybe Agent Doggett can fly out and spend the night until Agent Scully returns." 

"I'll let you decide. I don't mind being here by myself." 

"It doesn't bother you?" 

"Better than being here with a dead man." 

"Good point." 

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The rest of the evening turns out to be a whirlwind of activity for my two favorite agents. I dispatch a chopper from Hartford that picks up the body and Scully and returns them to Virginia. I call and update Skinner on the situation. He informs me that no one has seen Kersh in over 24 hours. 

"Isn't that strange?" I ask. 

"He's not my personal favorite," Skinner says, "but it's not like him to leave no word of his whereabouts, at least with his secretary." 

"And Debbie knows nothing?" 

"She says she doesn't." 

"I'll be in tomorrow morning and we'll talk. If he hasn't turned up by then, we'll start looking." 

I disconnect the call with Skinner and take to the air, returning to Georgetown in the nick of time. There are only fifteen minutes 'til dawn when I finally touch down and trot into the house. 

Alex is up and pacing the floor, obviously worried. 

"Where have you been?" 

"I told you ... Connecticut." 

He sighs. "I wish you had woken me up." 

"You were in no shape to travel." 

He gives me a petulant look but then relents, his shoulder slouching slightly. I pull him into an embrace and let him rest his head on my shoulder. I whisper in his ear while placing soft kisses on his cheeks and jaw. "The time will come soon ... when you and I will hardly ... ever be apart. Don't ... fret now. I want you in good shape before ... you venture out. I don't ... want to risk ... anything happening to you." 

He gives me a soft smile. "I'm sorry. I told myself I wasn't going to be needy. I guess I'm off my game and unbalanced. You're my anchor right now, Gareth. I get ... worried when I can't reach you." 

"You have my cellular phone number." 

"It was busy for hours," he informs me gravely. 

"Sorry. Mulder and Scully discovered Spender and called me. I spent a while on the phone making arrangements for them and filling in Skinner and asking Quantico to give her priority." 

"Scully came back with the body?" 

"Yes. I didn't think she would want to do the autopsy. I should have known better." 

"Is that a good idea?" he asks, pulling out of my embrace. 

"What?" 

"Letting her find his ... lack of blood." 

"I want her to. I want them to think whoever is committing these murders is somehow involved with Spender." 

"Do you have a scapegoat in mind?" 

"No. They aren't going to figure it out." 

"I wouldn't be too sure." 

I look at him. "I'll tell them before that happens ... if it comes to that." 

"Tell them what?" 

"What I am and that I need their help." 

"You're crazy." 

"No, I can make them ... not fear me. Hypnosis is easy for me. You should know all about that." 

I watch resentment flare in his eyes for a moment and then go out. "Whatever. It's your game, Gareth." 

"No, pet. It's OUR game. I assure you." 

"Why are you doing all this? What's in it for you?" 

"I told you." 

"This is all about finding Zebrosia? Nothing else?" 

I stare at him, deciding whether to lie or not. He doesn't know the full story. No one does. "For now," I finally answer. 

"Meaning there is more but you're not going to tell me." 

"Not yet. Can you deal with that?" 

"I don't really have a choice, do I?" 

"No, I guess not." ****

* * *

PART 9 (NC-17)

**QUANTICO**  
**BASEMENT MORGUE**  
**VIRGINIA**

I stand in the pale lighting in the hall outside the morgue in front of an unlocked janitorial closet. I listen to the conversation. I can hear her plainly speaking into her cell phone. With only a slight effort, I can hear his voice coming through her handset. 

"Mulder, it's me." 

"Hey, Me." 

"I'm done here." 

"What did you find?" 

"You're not going to believe this." 

"Let me guess. Been dead less than 24 hours, been frozen and thawed. Not a drop of blood in his body." 

Scully is silent for several moments and then says, "You know, Mulder, sometimes you are truly spooky." 

His laughter wafts out to my ears as he laughs in amusement at her assessment. "Elementary, my dear Watson." 

"Well, I almost expected the exsanguination. But the damage to the muscle and skin tissue is exactly what you said. It was partially or thoroughly frozen and then thawed. That's the part I don't get. Let's forget for a minute that his victimology doesn't fit the others in terms of this case and that house. None of the others were frozen and thawed." 

"That's because they were killed here and left here." 

"And Spender?" 

"He was killed elsewhere and transported here, maybe in a refrigerated vehicle. Who knows? It would make sense if they didn't want him to start stinking. I'm guessing he was killed back in Washington and taken here." 

"Because someone knew we would be here." It is a statement. 

"Maybe. Maybe whoever is doing the killings here knows someone is on to him and he wants to confuse the matter. Killing Spender is certainly going to get our attention. Killing him the same way is going to get our attention. And as the coup de gras, leaving him here as a housewarming gift guarantees we can't walk away from dealing with his death." 

"Housewarming gift, Mulder?" 

"Bad pun. But you get my point." 

"You think this is a diversion." 

"Yes. I think whoever did this was hoping that we would both leave and devote our time to solving Spender's murder." 

"This is all speculation, Mulder." 

"Isn't most of what we do speculation?" 

She sighs loudly. "What do I do now?" 

"Not give him what he wants." 

"Which is what?" 

"Divide and conquer. You at Quantico. Me out here." 

"Oh my God! Mulder, you don't think he's going to come after you while you are there alone, do you?" 

"I think it's a distinct possibility. It didn't really occur to me until after you'd left and I'd had a couple of hours to ruminate on the whole situation. I mean, we just got here and he had you out of here within the same day. I think someone planned this very carefully." 

"I'm on my way, Mulder." 

"Don't break your neck. I'll be fine. I've battened down the hatches. The locks on all the windows and doors work properly. I'm going to try and stay up most of the night reading on the couch. I think sleep might be my enemy right now." 

"Are you tired?" 

"Not really. I only sleep about four hours a night anyway, and I've been guzzling coffee for hours." 

"Have you eaten?" 

"I made a sandwich." 

"Where'd you get that? Did you go grocery shopping?" 

"No, it seems our new benefactor saw to it that someone stocked the fridge and cupboards. There's lunch meat and frozen steaks and canned veggies and canned soups. There's potatoes and snacks in the pantry. There's enough food here to feed an army for a month." 

"Our new benefactor? You mean D.D. Fair?" 

"The very same." 

"You're really enamored of him, aren't you?" 

"I don't think that's the proper term." 

"What term would you use?" 

"I respect him. I'm ... inclined to hope." 

"Amazing. Even after all we've been through, you can still hope that someone will see things our way." 

"You don't?" 

"I guess I have hope too. I'm just wary of it." 

"I know I should be." 

"But you're not, are you?" 

"I'm taking a leap of faith here, Scully. I'm going to trust the man until he gives me a reason not to. No, I'm not going to tell him my life story and I'm not going to confide intimate details to him. But I'm not going to undermine a potentially very good thing by being suspicious of ulterior motives every time the guy opens his mouth, either." 

"Why are you suddenly so reasonable?" 

He doesn't respond right away but then says softly, "I guess I want to believe, Scully, that it won't always just be us against the world. That somebody, somewhere, is on our side." 

"Me too, Mulder. I don't mean to rain on your parade." 

"We all have to stick with what we're best at." 

"Hey!" she cries out good naturedly. 

He is chuckling into the phone. As his laughter dies down, he says, "I miss you already, Scully." 

She gasps a little, probably inaudibly to Mulder. "I ... uh, I wish you were here too." 

"I don't. I wish you were here." 

"Well, I'm on my way. In the meantime, be careful." 

"I will." 

She disconnects the phone, again not saying good bye. 

I creep back down the hall with the stealth and silence of a cat and exit into the stairwell, making my way up a couple flights of stairs and out of the building into the night air. I walk on down the sidewalks, looking for a secluded spot in which to take to the air. I find one within a couple of blocks and rise into the air, dashing towards home. 

**XXXXXXXXXX**  
**KENDALL FAIR'S TOWNHOUSE**  
**GEORGETOWN, D.C.**

Alex is waiting for me, as usual. I find that I rather like coming home to find him there. He is pale and trembling slightly and I realize he is in need again. I've given him a lot in the last couple of days, but he needs more. 

**XXXXXXXXXX**  
**THIS PORTION NC-17**

We repeat the ritual of the previous night. This time, I loosen him up with a dildo and lubricant as he suckles my wrist, his fangs now a bit longer. When he finishes I am still a reasonable nine inches long, having been making a conscious effort to curb my lust. I roll onto him, hooking his knees over my elbows and bending him gently in half. I ease into him slowly, sinking deeply. 

He groans softly and I begin to thrust, staring into his eyes, being struck again by his beauty. I take him as gently as I can as he moans with every stroke inside. 

I don't try to prolong the pleasure and as soon as he begins to ejaculate, I led go of my load, filling him with warm jism and making us both shudder. I extract myself slowly and roll off him, lowering his legs to the bed. 

He smiles sweetly at me and says, "So good, every time." 

**XXXXXXXXX END NC-17 PORTION**

"Sleep now, little one." 

"You're going to leave again, aren't you?" 

"No, not tonight." 

He smiles wider. "Good." 

I smooth his hair with my hand and kiss him softly on the lips. "Rest up." 

"The pain wasn't as bad today." 

"I noticed. But the hunger is coming on you, isn't it?" 

"Yes ... I wanted to go out today." 

"No! You mustn't!" 

"I know. I keep my word. You'd know if I left anyway." 

"Yes, I would and I would be furious." 

He frowns. "I won't do it, but soon, Gareth ... I'm going to need to." 

"I know, but I want you as strong and fit as possible first. I'll go out tomorrow and feed. It takes a very short time for new blood to mingle with mine and change. Then I will have more to give and we will share again. You're almost there, Alex." 

"I know. I feel strange all the time, but in a good way. If the aching in my body would just let up, I would probably feel great." 

"Define strange." 

"Same things as before, but I'm starting to notice other things." 

"Such as?" 

"I can hear your neighbors without much effort at all. I was watching a basketball game before you came home and the cheering hurt my ears. I needed to turn it way down. I can see better too. I was looking out the window and I could see in crystal clear detail for such a long way." 

I smile. "These are but a few of the gifts, Alex." 

"How do you stand the noise?" 

"I'll teach you to block it. In fact, that will be one of the first things on the list. We all have to find our own frame of reference for it. I'll tell you how I do it and we'll go from there. I wish Zebrosia were here." 

He snaps his head around. "Why?" 

"Because she is a better teacher than I could ever hope to be." 

"I thought your maker taught you." 

"Not much, just enough to survive." 

"So you didn't know about your skills." 

"Not all of them and not at first." 

"Zebrosia taught you?" 

"Yes. She had a generous maker that taught her many things about what we were capable of. She in turn, taught them to me. Thank goodness, or I probably would have perished very young after being steeped in the blood. I fled not knowing a tenth of what I was capable of. I've no doubt I would have done something foolish eventually, and not knowing how to get out of it or what skills were at my disposal, get myself killed." 

"I guess I owe her a debt of thanks then." 

I smile. "You owe her nothing. But I do." I hear the coldness in my voice and start at it. 

"What's up with her, Gareth? I mean, now I'm seeing that she was your teacher and that obviously builds affection. I'm living, or dead, proof  
of that." 

I smile at his little joke. "I don't know how much to tell you." 

"There's more to this. I can tell. You SAY you owe her. You speak of her as if she is the love of your life and yet ... I sense that you hate her." 

"Do you now?" I ask in a low, controlled voice. 

He catches it immediately and sits up, arranging the bed clothes around his naked waist. "I don't say these things to piss you off, Gareth. I say them because they occur to me and because I'm curious." 

"I know." 

"I wish you would tell me." 

"I can't ... yet." 

"There is more though, isn't there?" 

"Yes, there is more to the story of Zebrosia and I." Much more, I think to myself. 

He is quiet for a few minutes and then looks at me. "If you can't trust me, Gareth ... who the hell can you trust?" 

Indeed. His quiet plea touches my heart and makes it ache quicker than any angry demand ever could. I reach for him and he comes into my arms. I cradle him against my body, feeling his breath on my chest. "It's not a matter of trust, Alex." 

"Sure it is." 

"No, there's more to it than that. I do trust you, but ... I also need to protect you." 

"From what? Knowledge?" 

"If you know too much of her ... she will be able to find you." 

"How? You can't find her." 

"She is older and more skilled than I." 

"Older, I get, but more skilled? That seems preposterous to me." 

"Only because you don't have all the facts yet. You don't know enough." 

"So teach me!" 

"I will." 

"Why would I be in danger by knowing about her?" 

"She doesn't want anyone to know she exists." 

"No one does, except you and me, of course." 

"There are others. Many of them believe she killed herself in the sun. I know better. I know HER better. She was selfish but she loved being who ... what we are." 

"Is this what you fought about?" 

"Partly." 

He is silent again as he ponders this. "Even the bravest hearts can turn to sorrow if the circumstances are right." 

I hold him tighter and his hand rests against the skin of my chest, swiping back and forth. "You are wise for one so young." 

"Got beat up a lot as a kid. Comes with the territory." 

I kiss him on top of his head and run my hand up and down his back, as his head rests in the crook of my shoulder. I smile again, sighing in contentment. We are silent for a long time and finally I say, "I love you, Alex, and she could kill you so easily." 

"So could you." 

"But I don't want to." 

"And she does? She doesn't even know I exist." 

"Oh, she knows you exist. She knows every one of us that exists." 

"How can that be?" 

"Let's just say she is the Queen Spider in the middle of the web. And her webs  
can be very sticky." 

"Are you saying she would be jealous?" 

"I don't know. I don't think so. But if she wanted to get back at me, killing a fledgling of mine would be a perfect way to do that." 

"You seem so sure she could kill me. I'm not sure it would be that easy." 

"Yes it would, for her. Her strength is enormous." 

"Well, if we stick together, it would be two against one." 

"You don't understand." 

"Then explain it to me." 

I pause and finally decide if she wants to visit me, she will and there isn't a damn thing I can do about it. Finally, I say, "Alex, just to give you some idea ... she could torment me or make me into a black spot on the desert if she wished." 

"You're exaggerating," he says with confidence. 

"No, she is that strong. And I can guarantee she knows you exist. You are the first I have taken to me in over a century. Only time will tell if she cares one way or another." 

"And if she does?" 

"She will come to see you ... and me." 

"Is that why you made me? For bait?" he asks, suddenly crushed and angry. 

"No!" I nearly shout. "I made you because I wanted a companion and I've been too lonely for too long and I ..." 

"And you?" he asks, still wary. 

I whisper. "I was so drawn to you, Alex. I loved your looks, your strength, your thoughts ... everything about you. Please believe me. I have more than one agenda and they may overlap, but you must never doubt my devotion to you. Making a fledgling is not something I take lightly. Hence the fact I haven't done it for over a century. No mortal in all that time has caught my interest enough to consider it. No mortal in all that time has ever been worth it." 

He swallows harshly. "And I was worth it?" 

I smile sadly at him. "Yes, love. YOU were worth it." 

He smiles again and my heart eases. I turn away from him but hug him to me. I may very well have painted myself into a corner with this one. If she comes for him, there will be nothing I can do to protect him. Will I go with him? Or will I be a coward and step aside like I did the last time? I hate her for that ... still. She didn't want me. She didn't want anyone else to have me either. Not fair, but true. And despite it all, I still loved her. I wasn't sure I would ever worship her again like I did back then, but I would always love her, if only for the things she taught me. I only wish, despite all her strengths, she'd had the courage to tell me that she loved me too. I know she did. 

I'd let go of that hope a long time ago. And I am stronger now. Who knows how powerful I've become? I've never really tested myself to the limit. Perhaps I should do that. 

As I lay there thinking, I remember again. Zebrosia was furious that I had made a fledging without her permission. I had done it for the wrong reasons. I was lonely and hurt that she wouldn't love me back after all we'd shared, and I wanted someone who would love me unconditionally. I'd done it to spite her. I'd thought that she loved me enough not to take this away from me. 

I was dead wrong. I relive the anguish quietly of watching her stare at my helpless fledgling, a mere few weeks old and crying out as she burst into flames like a Roman candle from merely the force of her will and her stare upon her. Smelling her burnt flesh and her screams as she perished like a firecracker that is brilliant and suddenly dies out. 

She'd left me then with a warning. 'Don't ever defy me again.' And she had left. Just like that. And I'd never seen her again. So how am I supposed to ask permission this time if she was never anywhere to be found? I wonder if that is why she keeps herself hidden. I was rethinking Alex's statement that even the stoutest of hearts can know despair. I know he was speaking of himself but it was a metaphor. Maybe she had grown that weary that she wanted all of us to perish. 

There is no way for me to know. I'd never tried to use the ability to start fires. I didn't even know if I was capable of it. Seeing Vanessa burn had so traumatized me, I didn't even want to have a fleeting acquaintance with that ability. 

Now as I lay here pondering the possibility that she could still care enough to come and see me and destroy my fledgling, I am rethinking my decision. I will need every ability at my disposal should she come. There was always the possibility that she wouldn't want to fight me. I didn't put up any resistance the last time. What would happen if I did? I didn't know. 

Tomorrow, I will go off somewhere secluded and test myself on starting fires and all my other abilities. I need to know what my abilities are. I can't make the same mistake twice. ****

* * *

PART 10 (R)

**OLD FARMHOUSE**  
**BULL'S BRIDGE ROAD**  
**KENT, CT**  
**THE FOLLOWING WEEK**

The following week saw Alex improve tremendously. He is fully a blood drinker now and I've been teaching him how to hunt. I have taught him how to read the mind of his victim and determine whether he is innocent or evil. 

I've stressed that he must never take advantage of the innocent. Having power is a privilege. It is also a responsibility. I want to instill this deeply within him. It is easy to become power drunk and want to show off. This is not the way to survival. 

As I told him before, our greatest defense is that people don't believe we exist. To flaunt ourselves is to endanger the entire race of blood drinkers. There aren't many of us left, and there are enough so that our extinction is a definite possibility should one of us decide that he or she feels the need to reveal themselves to the mortal population. 

I wait in the shadows of the long hallway and watch Mulder and Scully leave through the front door. They trudge out to the woodpile near the small barn in back of the house and return with an armload of wood each, filling the wood bin. 

"It's going to be cold tonight, Mulder. We may want to keep the fire going all night, just in case the power quits. The furnace has an electric start, so if the power goes out, we could be in trouble." 

"You're right. I'll spread some newspaper here and we'll make a small woodpile here against the wall. We'll stock up. Can't hurt." 

"Let's do it. It's already dark out." 

"After you." 

He follows her out the back door this time and I move to the archway between the hall and living room. They have put paper, kindling and logs in the grate of the fire place. I open the flue and back into the hallway, directing my will toward the pile of wood and kindling. It immediately bursts into flame and I smile, knowing that I have another skill in my arsenal that I didn't have before. I retreat into the shadows again and watch them bring the wood in. 

"Mulder! Did you light this before we went out?" 

"No, Scully. I was right behind you, remember?" 

"Who lit the fire, Mulder?" she asks, her voice full of trepidation. They drop the wood and pull their ever-present weapons. They scan the area and begin going from room to room, turning on lights and scanning the walls to see if someone is lurking. 

I see Mulder shudder. "There is something in this house, Scully." 

"Someone, you mean?" she whispers back. 

"No, I think it's a someTHING." 

She glances warily at him and doesn't argue. They go up the stairs to check the second floor. I easily avoid them, moving with stealth and speed when I need to avoid detection. Now I settle back into the shadows at the end of the hall as I listen to them search the upstairs. They come back down and enter the living room, staring at the fire place. 

"Someone lit that fire, Mulder!" 

"I know, but he or she is gone now." 

"Damn it, I'm spooked now!" 

They replace their weapons in the holsters and Mulder pulls her into his arms. She lets him do this and it's gratifying to see it. "This makes no sense, Scully." 

"I know." 

"Beyond the fact that the fire is lit." 

"What do you mean?" 

"Even if someone did light it, how did it get going so well in the small time we went out to the shed and back?" 

She pulls her face from his chest and looks up at him. She swallows. "What are you thinking, Mulder?" 

"I'm thinking that this fire is not natural, or wasn't started naturally." 

"You mean it wasn't started by a person." 

"Right." 

"And what do you think started it?" 

He looks at her stoically, knowing she is going to be incredulous. "I think this house is haunted, Scully." 

"Oh Geez!" she exclaims, pulling out of his arms and beginning to pace. "Mulder, for God's sake. Don't feed into the local folklore. Ghost stories are just that, stories. People make them up to explain things they don't understand and are afraid of!" 

He gives her a mournful glance when she turns to look at him again. He is  
silent, knowing he can't win this argument. It saddens him. For that matter, it saddens me. 

The house is still except for the crackling of the fire. I move so fast that I am a blur, but not so fast that I am totally invisible to the naked eye. I race past the fireplace and around the perimeter of the room, causing the fire to sway with the gust of air I create from my passing. The curtains on the three windows in this room, billow up and settle back down to the windows as I pass. 

They both stare and turn in a circle watching this happen. My body appears to be a translucent white blur. I leave the room and race up the stairs into the guest room where Scully is staying. I move all her toiletries and clothes from the closet onto the bed. It takes me about ten seconds and I race by them on the stairs as they head up to follow me. 

They feel the breeze of my passage as I go down the stair case by them and race toward the rear of the house. I open the door and purposely slam it on my way out, racing for the trees until I am once again hidden in the shadows. I hear their feet clumping on the hard wood floors as they retreat downstairs. 

I hear Scully yelp as the back door slams. They now stand on the porch, scanning the tree line for any sign of movement. I am dressed all in black as I always do on these excursions. I stand close to a tree, motionless as a statue. I will appear as part of the tree trunk to them, should their eyes even light on me. 

I listen to them murmur quietly to one another. "You saw it, Scully." 

She is silent. 

"Don't even try to tell me you didn't see it." 

"I saw it. I'm just not sure what I saw." 

"Oh come on, Scully. Jesus Christ, you can be stubborn! What the hell will it take for you to admit what your own damn eyes are telling you!" 

"Don't get mad at me, Mulder." Tears are in her voice. 

"Oh, fuck," he mutters, and pulls her into his arms again. "Shhh, I'm sorry I'm being an ass." 

He is realizing that she denies these things mostly because they frighten her. Her arms wrap around him and they stand there for a while. "It's getting cold out here," he says. 

"Mmmm," she hums and lifts her head. She finds his head tilted down toward hers, their lips a mere inch apart. 

"Scully," he whispers. God, even I can hear the longing in his voice. Why can't she? 

"Mulder, we should go inside," she says. 

He doesn't answer her, but continues to stare at her lips. I sense that she is about to pull away. I gently probe her mind and plant the picture of a naked, aroused Mulder in her mind. She gasps and he lowers his mouth to hers. 

YES! At last. She is startled but doesn't pull away. I know the feelings are there and I need do nothing else. She will respond because she has no choice. As I suspected, if he could just find the courage to touch her in a sexual way, her body would betray her. 

Mulder groans and grinds his pelvis into hers, letting her feel how aroused he is. Her knees bob slightly and he fastens an arm tightly around her back, holding her tightly to him, lest she try to escape. He tilts his head and continues kissing her, deepening the kiss. 

I inhale deeply and I can smell them both. I can hear the insistent whoosh of the blood in their veins as their hearts speed up with excitement and arousal. If you asked me why it is so important to me that they come together, I'm not sure I could tell you. But I loathe to see love like this squandered. 

He breaks the kiss finally and takes her hand without a word as he pulls away and leads her back into the house. I wait and listen to see what they will do. 

I hear a twig snap behind me and whirl to find Alex a foot away. He smiles. "I broke the twig on purpose." 

"You are silent as a cat now. Very good. I should have sensed you though. Usually, I can sense another blood drinker for miles away." 

"You were pretty absorbed in the display on the porch." 

"Yes, I was. It's grand, isn't it?" 

"That the bastard finally got the guts to kiss her?" 

"Ahh, my cynical Alex." 

"He's such an idiot. Everybody and their mother can see how she looks at him. Even I figured it out, and I'm not the most perceptive person in the universe." 

_What else did you figure out?_ I ask, projecting my voice into his head. 

He talks back easily. _That he needs to be the one to push it._

_Why?_

_Because she can't. He has to leave her no out, no choices._

_What is she afraid of?_

_Losing her sense of self. Losing the respect of her peers._

I reach out an arm, still leaning on the tree. He moves into my embrace and presses his chest to my side. *Do I sense some empathy, dear one?* 

I hear his chuckle in my head. _Maybe._

_You will not lose yourself, Alex._

_I already have._

*No. You have just changed your paradigm of who you are. You are still Alex, but new and improved.* 

_I admit that I still balk sometimes at depending on you so much._

*It won't be that way forever. But dependence isn't always a bad thing, Alex.* 

_How do you figure?_

*No one is an island. As soon as we believe that we don't need anyone else, we are resigning ourselves to a life of loneliness and fear.* 

_Is that why you live among mortals?_

*Yes. I must have the contact with the real world. It's too easy to live a fantasy land that is nothing but feeding and sleeping and loneliness. That leads to despair, Alex.* 

He snuggles closer. _I want to go home._

_In a few minutes._

He nods against my shoulder and I listen to them as they enter her room. I can see into the window. 

I hear her cry out, "Oh my God!" 

"Let's go in my room," Mulder suggests. 

"I have to put this stuff back. Damn it, Mulder. How did this happen! All my stuff ..." 

"I think we both know how it happened, Scully. I'm just waiting for you to admit it." 

"What does it want?" she asks quietly. 

I hear Mulder's chuff of breath. He is amused. This is her way of admitting she believes there is something unnatural in the house. She won't come out and say it, but she will ask the question as though it exists. He lets her have it, this small concession, as he always does at this point in their investigations. 

"I don't know, Scully. I guess we need to try different things and see what happens." 

**XXXXXXXXX**

For the next week, Alex and I tormented the couple as they tried to research the victims and checked into all the residents in the area. We moved things around. We moved Scully's stuff into the master suite with Mulder. She moved it back into the guest room and we moved it back into the Master suite. We set romantic tables for dinner with candles when they weren't looking. 

They studied family histories and the history of the house, discovering what I already knew; that there had been a suicide in that house in the late 1800s. 

A girl had killed herself when her father wouldn't let her marry the man of her choice. She had slit her wrists and let her blood drain out on the bedroom floor. The boy had later hung himself. 

"So," Mulder begins. "Maybe these ghosts are looking for some kind of resolution." 

"Like what?" 

"I don't know for sure. But this is a classic tale of unrequited love." He looks at her significantly. 

"So what? Anyone who lives here and does not do what the ghosts wants finds themselves dead?" 

He is silent and then says, "I think they want someone to get what they didn't have, Scully. Maybe they want to live out their love through someone else." 

"What's that?" 

"The love of a lifetime. They want someone in this house who will fill it with the love they never got a chance to." 

She gives him her skeptical look. "That has got to be the worst come on I have ever heard," she finally replies, amusement clear in her voice. 

He chuckles mirthlessly, sounding ironic and sad. "No, think about it. Can you imagine it, Scully? Loving someone so much that you can't live without them. Loving them so much that being denied the opportunity to be with them pushes you to not want to live anymore?" He stares at her, his expression sad, trying to convey that he isn't really talking about the ghosts at all, but about them. 

She is paying attention but not adding to the scenario he is creating. His tone is dead serious and she senses that they are not talking about the ghosts anymore. 

Finally, he admits it. "I feel that way about you, Scully." 

"No, Mulder. Don't say that." 

"Why? Because it frightens you?" 

"Yes!" she admits. 

"I can't help the way I feel, Scully. I love you ... that much," he adds quietly. 

She begins to cry silent tears and he gathers her into his lap on the couch, kissing her tears. They have become more affectionate and had a few wicked make out sessions. But he still hasn't coaxed her into the bedroom. 

He continues as she cries silently. I watch through the window as her legs separate and straddle his lap. "I've thought about it, Scully. I really have. And I honestly can't say whether I could live without you or not." 

"You did before," she finally whispers. 

"That was before you came along. Knowing you now, having fallen in love with you ... I don't know. I don't think I could go on alone." 

"You would, Mulder. You're a survivor." 

"The point is, I don't want to find out what that would be like. The couple of times you've been missing were plenty for me." 

I probe her mind and feel her turbulent emotions and thoughts. I speak to Alex as he stands next to me in the dark. *You take him, I'll take her.* 

_You got it,_ he replies. 

We both begin planting images in their minds of each other, caring for the other one, reminding them of things they have done for one another. I tap further into her psyche and make her super aware of the feel of him, the physicality of him. I pull back and check Alex. 

He is feeding Mulder images of her that most arouse him, one after the another. _Easy, Alex. Not too much._

He smiles and pulls back, feeding a few tender moments into Mulder's memory, though he doesn't need a lot of help in that department. I hear Mulder ask her finally, "Do you love me, Scully?" 

She whimpers and his lips fall to her ear. "Tell me, damn you. I need to know. I know you love me. But are you IN LOVE with me, the way I am with you?" 

She sobs once and breathes out her answer. "Yes," so quietly I wonder if he even heard her. We did, of course. 

I nod at Alex and we race for the house, entering silently through a window in the study. 

"Let me make love to you, Scully," he coaxes as they sit on the couch in front of the fire. 

She nods against his neck. He wastes no time and lifts her off his lap. I direct my will and make the fire in the fireplace suddenly flash in a brilliant explosion. 

They both look at the fire place and he says quietly. "I think our ghosts approve." 

I make the fire expand and flash again. Scully's expression is priceless. Mulder asks the thin air, "Is this what you want?" 

I race around the perimeter of the room and back into the hallway, making the curtains flutter. "My God," Scully whispers. 

"Have you noticed Scully?" 

"What?" 

"All they've done." 

"They?" 

"Well, we don't know if it's one or more. But they moved your stuff into my room, twice! They set romantic tables for us. Whenever we are being affectionate with one another, the harassing stops." 

She looks at him as she registers what he is saying. "I can't believe that." 

"Want to test the theory?" 

"How?" 

"I'll bet you won't be able to leave this room right now without me." 

"Don't be ridiculous!" She turns and heads for the arch way. 

_Don't let her leave, Alex._

He moves so fast, neither one of them can see him at all. As she reaches the archway, he grasps her around the waist, lifting her off her feet just enough to twirl her back toward the room and pushes hard, causing her to stagger precariously. Mulder is up on his feet in a flash and catching her in his arms before she falls. 

She is panting and Alex is back by my side, smiling like a maniac as we hide in the shadows, pleased with his new abilities and the opportunity to demonstrate them. 

"Oh my God, Mulder!" she exclaims breathlessly. 

He smiles softly at her. "I think, Scully, that if we want to get out of here in one piece, we'd better do what they wish." 

She looks at him for a moment. "You're not doing this just to get us out of here are you?" 

He grimaces. "You know I'm not, Scully. I love you. I've made no secret of the fact that I want to make love to you. And I think you want to make love to me too." 

She swallows heavily. "Make love to me, Mulder." 

"Upstairs." 

"We can't leave the room." 

"I'll bet we can together," he whispers. 

He takes her hand gingerly steps toward the archway. We are still and silent as he bravely leads her into the hallway and to the foot of the staircase. He grins at her and tugs her hand, pulling her up the stairs. 

  * You need to be careful, Alex. You don't know your own strength yet. You could have hurt her if you pushed any harder.* 



_Oops,_ he replies without a hint of remorse. ****

* * *

PART 11 (NC-17)

**OLD FARMHOUSE**  
**BULL'S BRIDGE ROAD**  
**KENT, CT**  
**THAT SAME EVENING**

Whether she is convinced at last, or merely unwilling to test it any further, she sees herself in a corner from which there is only one way out. She needs to make love to Mulder. 

The irrational reasoning behind this is immaterial. It is what it takes for her to enter into this without hesitation or remorse. It is the fulfillment of a deep seated desire, but she soothes her conscience by telling herself that she is getting them out of here alive. 

She doesn't want to end up a corpse, drained of all her blood. How this happened to the others, she still has no clue. She doesn't believe in vampires. Mulder does, but he is unable to make the connection between the ghosts and what he thinks the victims have fallen prey to. He has danced with the devils before. He is one of the few who believe in our existence. 

He is thinking, one mystery at a time. Their coming together is glorious. We exit the house and stand in the shadows among the trees. When you probe someone's mind, there are depths. A gentle probe will just give you the most conscious thoughts. A medium probe will give you the emotions that go with it. A deep probe will give you emotion, thoughts and unconscious beliefs and feelings. This is the wellspring of human behavior, those unconscious thoughts that make humans behave so strangely. For the most part, they aren't even aware of it. 

Alex asks, _Can we join them?_

I am amused and ask, _Which one do you want?_

_Dana. I've always wondered what it feels like for a woman._

*Probe her, pet. I'll join Mulder. Be careful though. Enter slowly. You are not adept yet and you don't want her to detect your presence and stop responding to Mulder because she is confused by feeling you there.* 

_I understand. I'll go slow._

He is actually better at this than most fledglings. He knows the skill of subtlety in life and it serves him well here. I don't want to inflate his ego too much, though. I only encourage him in areas where he is insecure and this isn't one of them. 

I direct my presence to the house and into the master suite that I know so well. I easily and stealthily enter Mulder's mind and sink into a deep probe. It is as if I become him, only I am aware of even unconscious feelings and thoughts that he is only vaguely aware of. 

They are naked already and Mulder is kissing her, marveling at the texture of her skin as his lips skim over the creamy texture. He loves the sounds she is making in the back of her throat, thrilling to the fact that he is causing them. I want to enjoy this connection he has with her. I sink to the deepest level where I can feel everything and I ... become him. 

I do not direct the show, I merely observe. But I can see everything, feel everything. My heightened sense of touch, smell, and hearing enhance his own and he becomes caught in the clutches of his senses as he borrows my sensitivity. 

**XXXXXXXXXXX**  
**THIS PORTION NC-17**

'Oh God, it's never been this good.' My lips, his lips slide down her breast bone. His tongue, my tongue reaches and swirls around her protruding nipple, feeling the gooseflesh of excitement, hearing her moan, feeling her tremble as he/I suckle on her turgid flesh. 

_Oh Christ, Gareth, this is incredible._

_Shh, we'll talk after._

xxxxxxxxxx 

I see her through Mulder's eyes and she is beautiful. I sink deeper into his psyche and become him, feel his feelings, physical and mental. My own appreciation is expressed though him as he makes love to her. We become two parts of the same man, experiencing the act from two different views, but sharing our appreciation. I surrender to his perception of the experience. 

xxxxxxxxxx 

I tingle all over as I stare at her alabaster skin, absently noting that the ghosts of the house are quiet. I know this is what they want. People denying their love makes them angry. I feel a presence here with me. It is voyeuristic, but doesn't bother me much. I feel as though this ghost is using me to feel a connection with his love. I wonder if Scully feels a presence with her. I would bet money that Ana Quinn, the girl that killed herself, is with Scully now. This is not the ideal situation for our first time, but frankly, I don't really care. 

Whatever makes it O.K. for her to be here with me is fine with me. I'm confident that once we are together this way, there will be no turning back for either one of us. Somehow, a ghost presence doesn't make me feel like a performing monkey. I love Scully. And I am happy to help the ghosts with this if it will give them peace. 

My hungry mouth finds the shrine between her legs and begins to feast, coaxing her juices into my mouth and her epicenter of pleasure to swell and throb on my tongue. I continue to worship, bringing my hands into play. An amazing little amount of effort lets me feel her muscles quake on my fingers and her bundle of nerves vibrate on my sensitive tongue. It's as if all my senses are on high alert. I have never been so aware of her, everything about her. 

"Muullddeerr!" she cries out and then just moans as her orgasm dies down. I crawl between her legs, bracing my weight on my elbows and knees. 

Her tiny hand on my engorged flesh makes me jump and thrust into her palm, smearing it with pre-ejaculate. She guides me to the entrance of my most holy place ... her body. 

Her smile is angelic as she nods once to say she is ready. I push slowly into her, savoring her wet, hotness. I am unable to hold back the groans of astonishment and pleasure as her tunnel grips my throbbing flesh and tugs at it with insistence. 

I sink into her to the hilt, feeling my head pushing on her resisting cervix. She moans and arches her back as her muscles adjust to my size. She is so tiny. 

xxxxxxxxxx 

I sink deeper into her, seeing Mulder through her eyes. He is a handsome man. I feel my skin heat up and my crotch tingle as I feel what she feels each time he touches her. I meld myself to her, become one with her, using her body to experience these feelings with her I float along with her and let her express what we both feel now. 

xxxxxxxxxx 

I feel a presence here with me. It is voyeuristic, but doesn't bother me much. I think, 'Well, ghosts, enjoy the show. I hope this is what you wanted. 

He is Michelangelo's David, perfectly sculpted as he looms over me on his hands and knees. He seems larger than life and I start as I imagine the face of a fierce exotic man flashing behind my eyelids. I blink and focus on him again. His expression is one of exquisite pleasure and joy. I stare into his eyes and see the love shining there. I know I have made the right choice. I must have him. 

I can sense the approval of the presence within me. I feel her presence craving for his manhood alongside my own desire. It heightens mine. The presence is vaguely masculine, but mostly just craving penetration. She was probably a virgin. I sense that she longs to know what it feels like. My orgasm has left me with post coital lethargy, but I move my hand down to grasp him. 

He is hot and hard in my hand and I guide him to my entrance, perching him there, his large head just separating the folds of my sex. He enters slowly and it is exquisite torture, feeling his hard flesh part my walls like a forceful wave. 

My body rejoices and I arch my back, begging for more. He sinks completely inside and I feel him pushing on the entrance to my womb. All I can do now is moan and delight in the sensation of the most RIGHT thing I have ever done in my life. I sense the presence with me again, amazed and overwhelmed at the magnitude of the sensations. I can only agree as Mulder lowers his head to kiss me, one hand pinching my nipple lightly. 

Why did I wait for this? He begins to stroke into me gently and it is like fireworks, my nerve endings on fire. 

I am aware of him like never before. I see, feel and sense every quiver of his muscles, every drop of sweat, every sound of pleasure that issues from his mouth and echoes in my head. I have never been made love to with such passion, such single minded purpose and with such love and tenderness. Yet he is fierce and unbridled and unable to hold back his need. 

I whisper, "Come to me, let it go." 

He cries out my name and to God. His mouth opens on a silent scream that becomes that a blast of pleasure/pain as he ejaculates into me, filling me with warm life giving seed. 

My body responds to his ecstasy and follows him into the abyss, convulsing on his spurting staff and sending waves of pleasure through my body. 

**XXXXXXXXX END NC-17 PORTION**

We quiver with aftershocks and he lies atop me, panting heavily. I feel the presence leave me. I feel lighter, and content with my decisions. 

I will never be separated from him again, I vow. As this thought crosses my mind, the lights flicker off and back on as if in agreement. 

xxxxxxxxx 

I have to coax Alex to disengage. He was in deep. I'm amazed she wasn't distracted by his heavy presence. 

**_COME BACK, ALEX. LET HER GO - NOW!_**

He finally returns to himself. He is panting and wide eyed. 

"That was incredible. It was like I ... BECAME her. Just incredible." 

"And something you shouldn't do often." 

He frowns. "That could become addictive." 

"Exactly why you shouldn't do it often. This was a special case, Alex." 

"I understand." 

"Do you? Don't forget the responsibility that comes with this power. It is not a game and it is not a toy. Grave consequences can come from the misuse of power. You've seen that in your mortal life. You hated those abuses. Don't become what you despised, Alex." 

"With great power comes great responsibility?" he teases, quoting Stan Lee from Spiderman. I give him a look that tells him I'm not amused. This is serious. He hangs his head. "I won't forget, but damn, that was great." 

I smile at him, unable to stay irritated when faced with his boyish enthusiasm for his new abilities. "We have to go soon." 

"How soon?" 

"Half hour or so." 

"I'm so fucking horny I feel like I'm going to bust." 

I laugh softly and pull him further into the trees. I sense his confusion despite his extreme arousal. I find a tree I can put my arms around. I take off my long wool coat and watch his brow furrow. I drop the coat and turn from him, letting my pants pool around my ankles. 

**XXXXXXXXXX**  
**THIS PORTION NC-17**

He gasps at the sight of my bare ass. I hug the tree, and bend forward, bending my knees to make my hips line up with his and whisper, "Take me, pet." 

He groans quietly and I warn him. "Be quiet, now." 

He grasps my hip tightly with one hand, then lowers it to finger my ass. I grunt and tell him, *I don't need to be prepared, love. Just fuck me.* 

I hear his groan echo in my mind. He is learning to internalize sounds to maintain his silence. He is a quick student. 

He nudges my sphincter with the head of his engorged shaft. His hand returns to my hip. The stump of his growing arm presses down on my other ass cheek. He adjusts himself and then thrusts forward with force, burying himself deeply in my ass. 

I hear his grunts in my mind as he plows into me like a sex starved maniac. You'd think he hadn't had sex in months. Feeling Dana's pleasure has really made him wild. It also shook his foundations of maleness again. He needs to feel male again. He still isn't one hundred per cent comfortable with the homosexual side of himself. So I let him have this reaffirmation of his masculinity. Soon he will lose the distinction that causes him distress and see pleasure as pleasure and gender as just a state of being. 

He loses control at the end and does moan out loud as he ejaculates inside me. I shiver at the warm splash I feel as he jerks his hips into my ass. He collapses forward, his dick still embedded in my ass. I'm still wearing my black turtleneck but I feel his muscular chest against my back. He grinds into me, swiveling his hips, unable to let go just yet. 

Finally, he pulls out. I clench my muscles to keep his fluids from leaking out and pull up my pants. Complete and total muscle control, with a little practice, is another benefit of being undead. I hate that term and rarely use it, but I guess it is apropos. I pick up my coat and put it back on. 

**XXXXXXXXXXX END NC-17 PORTION**

I turn and he falls into my arms. I kiss him gently. "O.K., now?" I ask. He realizes I know exactly what this was all about. 

He smiles sheepishly. "I can't help it. God, being with her through that. It scared me how much I liked it. How much I liked feeling like ... a woman?" 

He ends with a question, still unsure. "No dear one, just feeling her pleasure. It is much the same as being penetrated as a man. Penetration is penetration. Love is love. The sensations are only slightly different. Stop attaching gender to it. Some of us like being impaled, some of us like being the impaler. It's a preference, that's all. Which brings you the most pleasure? The most intense pleasure?" 

"And you?" 

"I enjoy both, but I must say I like being dominant." 

He chuckles. "I never would have guessed," he says facetiously. 

"We need to go now, Alex. Time is running short. I cut it too close last time. I don't need to get careless at this point, especially with you with me. I can't go quite as fast with you in my arms." 

"Let's go then." He molds his delicious body against mine and I enfold him in a tight embrace that he returns. His feet take up residence on my boots and I shoot up into the air, heading for home. 

We arrive well before dawn and lay down to catch some sleep. I note that his arm is almost fully formed now, with the hand being the only thing left to materialize. I realize I haven't fed in quite a few days and have been letting him drink from me all week. 

I made the flight without too much effort but I feel exhausted now and it's not a feeling I'm used to. I don't like it. I must feed tomorrow night. 

The hunt for Kersh is in full swing. Another few days and he will be given up for dead. This won't stop the search, but it will mean that changes will be made. 

**XXXXXXXXXX**

I am approached the next day by Director Mullen. He doesn't want Kersh's position open any longer. If he returns, he will be reinstated, but he wants the position temporarily filled. He is polling the other Deputy Directors for their recommendations for a temporary Deputy Director. The position will become permanent if Kersh is found dead. I heartily recommend Walter Skinner and cite many instances of his good decision making ability and his fairness and loyalty to his subordinates. 

I did do a little tampering and hypnosis so that every time someone says the words Deputy Director, he sees a picture of Walter Skinner in his mind. Two days later, despite receiving many other recommendations, he appoints Walter Skinner as Deputy Director. 

I look forward to telling Mulder and Scully when they check in next time. ****

* * *

PART 12 (R)

**HOOVER BUILDING**  
**THIRD FLOOR OFFICES**  
**WASHINGTON, D.C.**

Mulder has finally gotten around to researching vampire lore and pulling out the old file on the unholy trinity that he was involved with some years ago. Memories of his abhorrent behavior with Kristen Kilar are painful and he hopes to not have to reveal this Scully, especially now that they have been intimate. 

Of course, Scully is the consummate skeptic, totally disbelieving of vampires and citing Schere's Disease, an form of acute hepatic porphyria. Symptoms include extreme photosensitivity, anemia and even a craving for blood. She explained that patients live a nocturnal life to avoid sunlight, which can cause first degree burns from only minor exposure. They generally follow a liquid diet as they have trouble digesting solid food. They appear pale due to the anemia and have been noted to remain youthful in appearance. Their physical features age very slowly but they actually have short life spans, topping out at about age 50. 

She puts forth the supposition that someone with this disease, uneducated and untreated, could possibly convince themselves that they are a vampire and attempt to live out the lifestyle. 

Mulder counters with questions about the length of time between murders, reminding her that if that's true this guy has been at it for over 15 years. Assuming he was an adult when he started, he would be near the age of death by now. He also pointed out that they had no evidence the perp was a nocturnal creature. She doesn't buy his theory. He doesn't buy hers. What else was new? 

We let them go on for several weeks hashing over theories and doing further investigation. Scully works at the Emergency Room in New Milford about a half hour away and does research on various diseases that might account for the behavior of their UNSUB. 

Two more weeks have gone by. I have fed and in turn, fed Alex with my stronger blood. He is fully formed now, with no evidence of his former handicap. This thrills him to no end. He has spent a lot of time simply staring at his hand and flexing his fingers and turning his forearm as if fascinated by its existence. I'm happy for him. This was the lure for him, or the biggest one. He says the pain was worth every second. 

I am fortunate to have sensed another blood drinker in Washington D.C. A new plan takes shape. I have figured out how to remain anonymous after all and still have them in my debt. I love it when a plan comes together. 

This blood drinker is weak, not even a couple of decades old. By virtue of my blood, Alex is already stronger than he. I seek him out and scare the hell out of him when he realizes how powerful I am. My mind is able to hold him in place as though he were bound by invisible chains. He explains that his master had made him and abandoned him. He didn't mean to kill the innocent, but he didn't know what else to do. He hated being the creature he had become. He was not made willingly and begs my mercy, saying he would leave the city. He wished to die. I decide to give him his wish, unbeknownst to him. We set him up. His name is David. 

The more he talks, the more stupid we realize he is. This man was not a smart man in mortal life. As a creature of the night, he is reckless, stupid and a danger to us all. He is self-destructive in the extreme, as though he wants to be captured and destroyed. However, he is not brave enough to destroy himself. I read him easily and realize he is the answer to my plan. 

We tell him there are two humans that we want to dispose of and give him the location. We tell him if he disposes of them, we will teach him what he needs to know. He travels by plane to New England and we are waiting when he arrives. He is totally unaware of our presence. 

As he enters the house, I wake Mulder and Alex wakes Scully. They jolt into awareness as we probe their minds quickly. They believe the ghosts have awakened them. They sense danger but hear nothing. 

They remain in bed, having grabbed their weapons from the bed side table and wait. This fool is so inept that he manages to make noise on the floor boards in the hallway. In life, his IQ was probably in the double digits, and I can't imagine why anyone would have chosen him for a companion. 

Why Zebrosia hasn't found and destroyed him is beyond me. His bumbling is a danger to all of us. 

He does manage to open the door without sound and hide in the shadows. But Mulder and Scully are awake and see him enter, waiting motionless and pretending to be asleep. He is so inept he cannot even tell they are awake. 

We race for the house, entering silently and make our way upstairs. We enter through the bathroom window off the master suite. We easily make the leap to the second story and I hold Alex steady, hovering, while he opens the window carefully. I boost him up first and then pull myself through. It's a tight fit for me but I make it. These old houses have huge double sash windows. 

We wait, listening. Then we hear him hiss and lunge. Through the open bathroom door, we see Mulder's arm rise beneath the covers and fire, hitting the poor creature right in the heart. 

It hollers an awful, pitiful sound, momentarily stunned. Scully is now sitting up in bed, aiming her weapon should Mulder need back up. She snaps on the light to see better and they both gasp, seeing him grimace and show his fangs. 

He leaps again and we decide it's time to intervene. A nod from me and Alex races into the room, taking the creature up from behind and tossing him into the wall. It is crazed for the blood now, having anticipated the kill. He strikes out at Alex, who easily subdues him. The lights remain off in the bathroom and they cannot see me. They are not looking this way anyway. 

Alex has the creature in a wrestling hold. One hand restraining his arms behind his back, the other putting him in a choke hold, he looks up to find Mulder and Scully staring at him in astonishment. He did not move so fast he could not be seen. But he moved fast enough to reveal that his movements were not natural. 

David wails, "You bastard! You set me up!" 

I reach out and give him a picture of himself burning and he goes quiet, frightened into paralysis. I don't want Mulder and Scully knowing we've manipulated this situation as much as we have. 

Alex smiles at them and says casually, "Looks like I'm coming to your rescue again, Agents." 

Scully is horrified and Mulder aims his weapon at the creature's chest, threatening to shoot both the creature and Alex. 

Alex clucks his tongue. "Tsk, tsk, Agent Mulder. That will do you no good. You slowed this pitiful creature down but it won't do a thing against me. Besides, I die and you die. This creature will kill you." 

Scully finally finds her voice. "What the hell is it?" 

David hisses at this moment, his head back, eyes rolling back in his head with his torment at being denied his feast. I knew he hadn't fed in days. He is ravenous. 

His fangs are once again in plain view. Alex turns his head to David, looking amused, then back to Mulder and Scully. "What does he look like?" 

Alex laughs now. Mulder slides out of bed and puts on a pair of jeans that were laying a chair by the bedside table. He tosses Scully a robe which she hastily pulls on over her sexy camisole and belts it tightly. 

Mulder stands, his weapon now at his side, but still cocked and ready. "He's a vampire," he states with conviction. 

Alex smiles. "Very good, Agent Mulder. What was your first clue?" he asks sarcastically. I press my lips together to hold in my amusement. He is so irreverent at times. 

"Fuck you, Alex!" 

Alex shakes the creature and he hisses again. He asks me telepathically. _Can I have him?_

_Yes._

Scully asks, "Then if he's a vampire, what the fuck are you that you can restrain him?" 

He grins. "That's an astute question, Agent Scully," he mocks. 

I don't really care for his arrogance in this situation. *Easy, Alex. No showing off. The basics will be impressive enough.* 

His smile fades and he is serious once more. "I, Agent Scully, am a more powerful vampire than this one," he states mildly. 

"You expect me to believe that?" she exclaims. 

He shrugs as if to say it doesn't matter whether she does or doesn't. He speaks to me again. _Watch them in case they want to interfere._

I shift my stance to be able to see both of them from just inside the bathroom. He is not really giving me an order. He is asking for my protection. He doesn't quite realize yet that he doesn't need it. Not here anyway. However, I don't want him shot, simply because it is painful, although it heals. And I'd like to keep this as neat as possible. He's had enough pain in the past weeks. 

He curls his lip up and pushes his tongue against the roof of his mouth, extending his now fully formed fangs. He stands there with his mouth open, letting them see. Then he smiles, yanks David's head to the side and sinks his fangs into his neck. 

David jerks beneath him and screams like a wounded elephant. Mulder and Scully are both out of bed now, Scully pulling jeans on under her robe as they both stare in awe at what is happening before them. 

Alex drinks deeply and I see the blood flush his cheeks. In a matter of two minutes he has drained him dry. He licks David's neck, watching the wounds heal up, and then drops him like a sack of potatoes at his feet. He holds his mouth open and they watch his bloody fangs retract. He smiles showing his normal teeth, which are slightly tinted pink, until he licks them clean. 

Scully had come to Mulder's side of the bed but now he pushes her behind him. Alex laughs. "I'm not going to hurt you." 

"Yeah, and you've always been so truthful with us before," Mulder replies sarcastically. 

Scully mutters, "As if he wasn't dangerous enough already. I can't get my mind around this." 

She steps to Mulder's side, unwilling to let him shield her. They look at the drained body at Alex's feet. "I'll get rid of him, don't worry." 

They are silent, wondering what he wants. Mulder finally speaks. "Why were you even here to help us? Why would you help us? When did this happen to you? None of this makes sense!" he says through clenched teeth. The magnitude of what they have just seen is sinking in for him. Scully is still in denial, thinking it must be some sort of trick. 

Instead of answering right away, Alex holds up both hands and wiggles his fingers at them. "Do you like my new acquisition?" 

They both stare in shock, Scully gasps, at once fascinated and repelled. "It's got to be a fake, just a really good one." 

"It's no fake, Scully. It grew back." 

"That's impossible!" 

"Obviously not," Mulder adds, "Not if you're a vampire." 

"There are no such things as VAMPIRES!" she shouts. She is shaken and totally losing her composure. 

Alex tilts his head to the side. "Let me see if I can answer some of your questions. Your first question was why am I here to help you? Well, my master knew of this creature . He was a bit of a rogue, I'm afraid, and killing innocent people, leaving a trail exposing us unnecessarily. I'm afraid your victims here were his work. So my master was going to teach him the rules of the road, so to speak. He brought him back to D.C. and bought this house, generously letting you rent it when the investigation came up. We had him in the city so we thought you were safe. Unfortunately, this creature turned out to be dumb as a box of hair. He doesn't learn a thing. So ... Plan B." 

"What is Plan B?" Mulder asks. 

"Destroy him." 

Neither has a response to that, so Alex continues. "Unfortunately, in the meantime, he must have heard us talking about you and having you investigating the deaths here. He took off, figuring you were easy prey out here in the middle of nowhere. And it was a chance to get away from ..." 

He hesitates and I tell him, _Yes, you can use my real name._

"Who?" Mulder asks. 

"My master, Gareth." Of course, they don't know this name so it rings no bells with them. 

"Why did he want to get away?" 

"Maybe he realized Gareth planned to destroy him." 

"Why wouldn't he just fight him?" Mulder asks. 

Alex laughs heartily now. When his laughter dies down he says, "Did you see how easily I overcame him?" 

"Yes," they both reply. 

"I'm ten times stronger than a human being now." 

"So what?" Mulder asks, as if this is not an unusual trait to have. I have to give him credit. He's keeping his cool. 

"Well, imagine strength ten times greater than that." 

"And ...?" Mulder asks. 

"And that's how strong my master is. He could squash me like a bug." 

Scully finally joins in. "He must be something. I didn't think Alex Krycek would concede defeat to anyone." 

"I'm not an idiot, Dana. Besides, there's nothing to concede. He is my maker, my master. He taught me how to survive this way." 

"Were you taken against your will?" 

"No, I went willingly." 

"Why?" 

"I wanted my arm back. The Consortium as I knew it was destroyed. I was ... adrift, so to speak." 

"This simply defies all medical explanation," Scully throws in. 

He smiles at her. "So the second question was why did I help you? Well, my master told me to go after David here. As soon as we realized he was gone, we figured he might have come here. Obviously, he was right. I arrived none too soon. I'd hoped to catch him before he got here." 

That is a lie, but a nicely placed one. "What will you do now?" 

"I'm the muscle for the new Consortium. With my new abilities, carrying out my assignments should be much easier than before." 

"The New Consortium?" Scully asks. 

Mulder's brow creases. "I'm confused. Why would your master want to help us?" 

"He wants your help." 

"Our help?" Scully asks, sounding like this is the most ridiculous thing she's ever heard. 

"Yes. He wants to locate another of our kind." 

"Why?" 

"I'm not entirely sure. He won't tell me the whole story." 

"And that doesn't bother you?" Mulder asks, immediately seizing on Alex's weakness. Bravo, Agent Mulder. 

Alex winces. "Yes, it does." 

"So why are you bowing down to this guy?" he taunts. 

Alex grimaces again. "It's not like that. He gave me something precious, just as he promised. He never said it would be wine and roses. He was very forthcoming about the disadvantages of being a blood drinker." 

"This is surreal," Scully mutters. 

"So what happens if we don't want to help?" Mulder asks. Isn't he full of questions this evening? 

Alex is silent, just looking at them as if to say, 'You can figure that one out all by yourself.' 

Mulder looks at Scully. "I don't see where we have a choice." 

She purses her lips, obviously annoyed. "We're being manipulated again, Mulder." 

He sighs. "I know, but whoever or whatever this guy is, we owe him." 

"For what?" 

"He just saved our lives, I think." 

"Alex saved our lives!" she cries. She goes silent suddenly, realizing this wasn't a good admission to make. 

Alex smiles. "I appreciate your gratitude," he says sarcastically. 

"We didn't ask you to come here!" Scully yells. 

Calmly, Alex says, "You'd be dead if I hadn't." 

"And he wouldn't have come if this Gareth hadn't sent him," Mulder concludes. 

"Just so," Alex puts a period on the discussion. 

I speak to Alex. *Alex, toss David out the bedroom window in about a minute or so.* 

I turn and leave by the bathroom window, not making a sound. I stand in the shadows of a maple tree and wait, listening. 

"Where is this master of yours?" Mulder asks. 

"He doesn't wish to reveal himself to you yet." 

"But he exposed you readily enough, didn't he?" Mulder taunts him again. 

*Don't let them get to you, Pet. You know what they are trying to do.* 

"He figured you wouldn't run from me. You at least know my face." 

"Do I know his face?" Mulder asks slyly. 

"I ... doubt it," Alex replies. His hesitation was just enough for them both to pick up on it. 

"You're lying," Scully boldly states. 

Alex shrugs and says, "Let me get rid of this garbage for you." He picks up the lifeless body and opens the sash. Bending him in half, he feeds David ass first through the window. The body falls like a rag doll, rolling down the roof that covers the back porch and falling with a thunk to the ground. I wait until I see them all looking out the window. Alex retreats to give them room. When I'm sure they are looking at the body, I ignite it into a ball of flame. The fire burns hot and fierce, disintegrating the body quickly and leaving nothing but a black smudge on the lawn. 

"Holy shit!" Mulder exclaims. "Did you do that?" he asks, looking warily at Alex and backing into the room again so as not to have his back to Alex. Scully does the same. 

I sense he unsure how to answer this. _Tell them, no._

"No," is all he says and lets the implications of that seep into them. 

"He's here, isn't he?" Mulder utters, barely audible. 

"Who?" Scully asks, still not following his train of thought. 

"This master ... this ... Gareth. He's here somewhere, isn't he?" 

"Yes, he brought me here." 

Scully is suspicious now and nervous as they look around the room as if I might appear suddenly. "How Alex? How did he bring you here?" she asks. 

Alex smiles. "We flew." He doesn't explain further, but laughs and says. "I think your investigation is over, Agents." 

"Wait a minute. You said this vampire was killing innocent people. The victims here weren't innocent," Mulder states. 

I'm wondering how Alex will handle this one. 

"True. We wouldn't have minded him ridding the world of these scumbags, but in this case, he left the bodies, ergo, leaving a trail. Bloodless bodies tend to attract a bit of attention, don't they? He was too stupid to dispose of them properly." 

Neither could argue with that. Nice cover, I think. "I see," Mulder says. 

"I don't," Scully adds, but she doesn't say anything further. 

"We're not supposed to leave the bodies about, Agent Scully," Alex adds. 

"I gathered that." She pauses. "This can't be true." She is still in full denial mode. 

"Our best defense is that people like you don't believe we exist," Alex says and smiles. "You protect us a great deal with your denial." 

"Scully," Mulder entreats. "You HAVE to start believing what your own eyes tell you, even if it's frightening." 

She stares at him, slightly embarrassed that he has chastised her in front of Alex. 

Alex breaks in. "She is a good skeptic, Mulder. She makes you work hard for your proof. That's why you are such a good team." 

Scully gathers her courage and stalks toward Alex. "I don't believe any of this. Open your mouth!" she shouts, pulling his jaw down with her hand. 

I can't decide if she is the bravest or most foolish person I've ever seen. _Don't hurt her, Pet._

Alex stands placidly and opens his mouth. "There are no fangs here!" she cries triumphantly. "Where did you put them?" She is thinking it's some sort of slight of hand and he has fake fangs up his sleeve. 

Alex's tongue rises up and pushes on the roof of his mouth, his lip curling up and his fangs descend in the space of about two seconds to their full length. She gasps, but doesn't pull away. "They're fake. They have to be!" She is almost frantic. 

"Scully, don't push him!" Mulder steps forward, a full fledged believer now if he wasn't before, and he is panicking, afraid for her in her foolishness. He didn't trust Alex before, now he really doesn't trust him as the realization sinks in that he could snap Scully like a twig. 

She shrugs Mulder's hands off her shoulders. 

Alex says, "I won't hurt her, Mulder. I promise." Alex must have read him as easily as I did. His mind is screaming with frustration and he is in full protect mode. Mulder still stands close by, ready to yank her to safety. 

She steps back and grabs his arm, pushing his sleeve up to find his fully formed arm. "Oh my God!" she says under her breath, thoughts of limb regeneration whizzing through her head. Most people wouldn't be willing to pay the price, I think. But the doctor in her can't help but be fascinated. 

Scully pushes the pad of her thumb against his fang and gasps as it easily punctures her skin. She tips his head back and peers at the bottom, seeing the small hole in the bottom of the canine fang. 

He grabs her hand, startling her and she tries to pull away. Slowly he holds her palm up, exposing her thumb. He rests his fang gently in the drop of blood on her thumb and sucks, vacuuming it into his fang. He shivers in delight at her innocent blood and I hear him in my head. 

_Oh my God, Gareth._

*Yes, lover. There is a difference between the innocent and the evil ones.* 

_She's fertile right now, Gareth._

_What?!_

_I'm telling you, she's fertile. She just ovulated._

_Tell them._

He lets her pull her hand away and now she is frightened and backs away, stopping when she hits the wall of Mulder's chest. Mulder places his hands on her hips, keeping her close. He no longer cares how it looks. He is frightened for her and himself. 

Alex smiles at her and speaks to both of them. 

"Make love to her again ... soon, Mulder." 

"What?" he cries. 

"Just what I said, make love to her soon, within twelve hours." 

"You bastard! Our relationship is none of your business!" 

"I know you slept together. It's all over your face, Mulder." 

"How? How did you know?" Scully cries. 

"It doesn't matter." He pins her with his gaze. "If you've never believed me before, believe me now. You are fertile right now, Scully. You can become pregnant. I don't know for how long, though." 

"You liar. That's just cruel. Why would you say something like that?" 

"I'm not lying. Your window of opportunity is small, though. Make love to her tonight, Mulder. Return to Washington tomorrow. I'll be in touch. Gareth wants your help and he will have it one way or another. If you get pregnant ... consider that another gift from him." 

With that, he lithely vaults out the window and jumps to the ground, landing in a crouch with the grace of a cat. Two stories is not a big jump for us. 

_Nice touch, a gift from me._

_You're welcome,_ he says sardonically. 

_We need to leave._

_Do you want them to see us go?_

_Yes. I can move fast enough so they can't see our features._

Alex shouts up to the window. "Hey!" 

They come to the window and look out. "What?" Mulder shouts. 

"Watch behind that maple tree over there." 

He strides over to me where I am hidden as part of the trunk. He steps into my embrace in a tangle and press that is familiar to us now. The tree is between us and the window. I back up out of range of the branches and lift into the air. I hover for a second just above the tree's highest branches. Alex waves cheekily. We are far enough away that they cannot see our faces. 

I take off into the air at such a speed it must have looked as if we'd simply disappeared. Even from this distance, I can hear them. "Holy Christ, Scully!" 

There is a pause and then she says, "I think I need to get my eyes checked." 

Alex and I both laugh at that as we race toward home. 

**THE END.**

**TO BE CONTINUED....**   
  


#### If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to Donnilee


End file.
